


I’m the lie living for you

by tigriswolf



Series: Alternate Universe [235]
Category: 2 Fast 2 Furious (2003), Fast & Furious (2009), Fast Five (2011), Fast and the Furious Series, The Fast and the Furious (2001)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Bigotry & Prejudice, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Child Neglect, Depression, F/M, Family, Fix-It, Gen, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magical Realism, Mild Gore, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Non-Canonical Character Death, POV Third Person Limited, Secret Identity, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-02 19:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 46,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4071937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing Brian O’Connor does best is lie, and he lies to himself the best of all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Evanescence; some dialogue taken directly from the film  
> Warnings: AU, violence  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 7485  
> Point of view: third 
> 
> Note: I know it’s spelled _O’Conner_ but I hate that spelling. I also made up last names for the characters without them in the films. 
> 
> Another note: I have ideas for a continuation into the second movie, where it'd go majorly AU.

When they ran together in a pack of two, safely ensconced inside Rome’s ma’s pack, Rome and Brian fought like cats and dogs – which makes sense, because Rome's other half is a [coyote](http://i.huffpost.com/gen/1465835/images/o-COYOTE-facebook.jpg) and Brian’s is a goddamned [mountain lion](http://www.huntalberta.ca/i/species/cougar/Cougar-02-0.jpg). He got it from his father, according to his mom, because there's no 'shifter in her family. But the bastard up and left when Brian was still just toddling around, without even telling her that Brian was a cub, too. 

Brian didn't talk about it much, but Rome could smell the same thing he did, and Brian's mom was washing her hands of him steadily, every time he got into trouble - and with Rome at his side, watching his back, Brian got into a _lot_ of trouble. His mom was done after his second stint in juvie, so Brian went home with Rome, and Rome's ma didn't exactly welcome him, but she made sure he was safe. 

In Barstow, most every 'shifter was a wolf or in Rome's ma's pack of coyotes and jackals. There were a couple of cats, too, the small kind - Brian was the biggest thing, and he always smelled slightly _off_ , even compared to the small cats. The wolves didn't like him for it, but every time the younger ones tried to make trouble, Rome was there, and where Rome (son of the alpha) went, so did the rest of Aunt Constance’s pack. 

Brian was Rome's pack, until he wasn't. If he'd known, though - if he'd known the cops were about to bust Rome, he'd have told him. Warned him. Helped get rid of the evidence, or run with him - that's what pack did. 

But he didn't know. And Rome was busted, locked away in the shifter-proof cells. Without Rome, Barstow wasn't home, and without Rome as his pack, Barstow wasn't safe. 

"I understand," Rome's ma told him, "but I can't forgive." 

He tried telling Rome, but Rome wouldn't listen for years, so Brian transferred to LA without a pack, without back-up. Cougars were solitary, anyway. 

...

Most shifters who join law enforcement are canines of some sort, usually wolves since wolves are by far the most common of all shifters. Avians are getting rarer altogether, and the few who remain are entirely insular. There are way fewer felines than canines, and felines usually stick to themselves, too. Of the rest – well, they don’t advertise. No one’s really sure how many are out there, or what they are. 

Brian's not the only feline shifter at his precinct and his direct superiors are the only humans who know what he is. If they dug into his record, they’d find it – you don’t have to admit in the private sector if you’re a shifter (not since the civil rights movement) but if you work for the government, you do. All the shifters know, of course. He couldn't hide it if he tried, and why would he? 

Well, they know he's a cat of some kind, and they know he doesn't back down at all when they try to intimidate him. It's a lesson the wolves back home learned, too: Brian O'Connor does not flinch or shy away. He can be beaten but he won't break or beg. If their other halves want to go for his throat, he'll fight till he's dead. 

Of course, they're all law officials, so it never goes past a little light hazing. They're supposed to keep the other world under wraps as much as possible, and try not to involve humans in their quarrels. 

Brian's popular with the humans on the force because he's friendly, affable, charming. The other felines stay close out of solidarity and because the canines snarl at them, too. But when they're on duty, if they need back-up, the canines are there - canines are pack animals, after all.

…

The movies always make it either more romantic or more terrifying than it really is. Brian’s least favorite are probably the romantic comedies where each shifter has a soulmate somewhere, waiting to catch their scent. He can ignore the horror films where out-of-control shifters are the villains, always put down by either a heroic shifter or heroic humans because he knows the cat is part of him, not something other that takes over. Humans don’t get it – can’t, probably. 

He’s never bothered explaining it to a human because he’s had Rome his whole life, and Rome knows just as well as he does. Humans have feared shifters because of their other half, always scared the animal would take over, would bite and turn innocents into monsters. It doesn’t work like that, not that Brian’s ever bothered explaining that to someone with the prejudice, either. You’re born a shifter or you’re not, everything else is just a load of crap, probably used a long time ago to keep enemies and neighbors in line. 

Fat lot of good it does shifters today, though. 

Some shifters go through life pretending to be human. Brian knows that’s what his mom wanted him to do. When he was a kid, he’d spend days as a cub, learning his territory with the cougar’s senses. Those senses are diluted in human form but still better. He’d wander the house smelling, shoving his whiskers around, learning the house probably better than Mom ever knew it. 

Brian has never advertised his other half but he’s also never hidden it. Maybe it’s because of Rome’s ma, his siblings and cousins, the pack he and Rome made within Aunt Constance’s pack, the way everyone was both themselves and their other halves – but he is the cougar and the cougar is him, and he doesn’t need a pack anymore. Doesn’t want one, either.

(The thing Brian O’Connor does best is lie, and he lies to himself the best of all.)

…

Brian is sent under for the truck hijackings because the _only_ thing everyone agrees on is that the drivers must be shifters because of the precision required to pull it off. There are a few crews on the radar but them being shifters is not enough to pull them in for questioning, and even if it were, it’d be a tip-off that would send the smart ones running and piss the dumb ones off.

When he was a kid, Brian did a lot of stupid shit, all of it with Rome at his side. They only got caught because of their big mouths – when they were behind the wheel, they were unstoppable. They could read each other’s minds: in movies, it’s romanticized as _the pack connection_ , but that’s as much bullshit as soulmates. It was just how well they knew each other. How much they trusted each other. 

Brian didn’t turn on Rome and Rome didn’t turn on Brian, and they both did their time and got out on their eighteenth birthdays. Brian went on to become a cop; Rome didn’t. 

But these guys hijacking trucks, he knows they must be shifters because they drive like him and Rome. Humans could learn the precision, given time and practice, but the reflexes? Those can’t be learned. Those are innate. 

The FBI marches in on a bright Monday morning to order that every shifter capable of driving a car present themselves. Two FBI agents are already prepped in case no one in LA is able – 

But Sergeant Tanner just sighs and looks at Brian.

There’s a debate, of course. Not every wolf becomes a cop but if a wolf starts slinking around after the ‘jackings? Yeah, it’s suspicious. There’s also the fact that wolves are far more territorial against wolves than anything else. There’s a few foxes on the force, a lone osprey, half a dozen cats, most of them small. And then, of course, there’s Brian, who once boosted cars for the sheer thrill of it. 

The Feds offer him a Detective badge if he breaks the case. “So what are you?” Agent Bilkins asks like he doesn’t know, didn’t know every shifter before he set foot in LA. Besides the two possible UCs they brought with them, none of the Feds are shifters. 

Brian grins at him, wide and sharp. “Puma,” he says, meeting Bilkins’ gaze. He’s not the first to look away. 

…

There’s the Trans, a wolf pack that definitely has ties to organized crime. The Toretto pack, also wolves. A few others, but not as good as the Tran and Toretto packs. The Trans won’t let him close, so Brian focuses on the Torettos. He gets set up at a local CI’s garage and wanders into the Toretto’s corner grocery store for lunch every day for almost a month. 

He clocks most of the pack there at one time or another: Leon Williams, Jesse Herbert, Vincent Johnson, Leticia Ortiz, and then both Toretto siblings, Dominic and Mia. They’re all recorded as wolves, but it must have been a human who marked it, probably based on Dominic, the clear alpha. He’s on public record as a wolf because of the conviction that sent him to Lompoc for two years, to the shifter part of the prison. But Williams and Herbert aren’t wolves – hell, Williams isn’t even a shifter, he’s a goddamned human. 

Which means Brian’s got a shot of getting in. 

The only one of them ever alone is the alpha’s sister, Mia, when she’s working at the shop. So he stops in every day for lunch and is friendly, charming. Just a guy. 

Wolves are the easiest to tell, shifter to shifter. It’s an unmistakable scent, common enough that every shifter knows it. Canines have a particular smell, just like felines, avians, and all the rest do. So he’d know Mia was a wolf even without the records, but all she knows is that he’s a cat of some kind. 

Picking tuna every day is just a joke. He knows it’s working when on the seventh day, Mia Toretto says, “It’s funny ‘cause you’re a cat, right?” setting the sandwich in front of him. 

He smiles up at her, keeping his lips pressed together, before saying, “Somethin’ like that.” 

...

Mia softens more towards him every day. Sometimes, Toretto is in the back room and Brian has to split his attention, part on Mia but most on her brother. There’s nothing suspicious about a business owner working on paperwork. 

He likes Mia. The fact that a girl like her is still hanging around means the Toretto pack can’t be all bad, despite Johnson’s unpleasant attitude. 

Every day for three weeks, and Johnson’s temper gets shorter, his annoyance turning to anger, all of it focused on Brian and his ten minute visits on his lunch break from Harry’s garage. 

And Brian just smiles, lips closed, until the day Johnson storms after him, spoiling for a fight. 

They have to know he’s a cat. Probably think he’s a small one, like Herbert probably is. He could shift, go for the throat, but that’ll just have the entire pack after him. So as long as Johnson stays human, Brian will, and they tussle like kids in the schoolyard. 

Brian learned to fight against jackals and coyotes, against wolf cubs that became wolves as they all grew. But he brawls with Johnson like he learned in juvie, keeping his audience in mind the whole time, and he _feels_ when Johnson’s alpha decides to get involved because two of his pack have asked him to, Ortiz and Mia. 

The thing about Brian is that he doesn’t back down, no matter who’s baring teeth at him. He meets Toretto’s gaze straight on, Toretto’s pack surrounding them, and says, “He came at me.” 

Toretto demands Brian’s wallet from Herbert and Brian’s in, even if none of them know it yet. 

…

Brian Earl Spilner is the only child of Earl and Jean Spilner, from Tucson. He was constantly in trouble as a kid, an uncontrollable little shit without the proper supervision a high-speed child needs, so he turned into a surly teenager looking for trouble. Jean Spilner was the daughter of a feline shifter (which parent, she didn’t know) and Earl was the son of a canine and a feline. It was practically guaranteed their child would be a feline, and so he was. 

Jean Spilner tried to drown her cat with pills; Earl drowned his with booze. Their son learned about his other half completely on his own. Brian Earl Spilner grew up without a pack. He got his GED in juvie and didn’t bother with college. He drifted below the radar till he wound up in LA. 

His driver’s license says he’s feline. It’s the law. He knows they’ll check him out and that he needs to make a favorable impression the second go round. 

The shop is their territory. The garage. The racing scene itself. Anyone’s welcome if they prove themselves, shifters and humans mingling. No one cares so long as you’re good. 

Brian Earl Spilner is good, but not enough to win. Not yet. 

So he doesn’t. 

…

Brian Earl Spilner has all of Brian James O’Connor’s best qualities and none of his worst.

…

Brian loses to Toretto, coming in second and grinning the moment he’s out of the car, adrenaline still racing through him. The last time he felt such a rush, he’d taken a weekend for himself, months ago, now, gone out to the mountains and let his other half roam. He’d missed Rome tumbling beside him, yammering on in coyote, missed bowling him over with one big paw, missed Rome jumping onto his back and trying to wrestle him down, missed Rome’s cousins and siblings all joining in. 

“What are you grinnin’ about?” Toretto demands so Brian has to laugh, “Man, I almost had you!” 

It gives Toretto a moment to alpha the entire crowd but it doesn’t dim Brian’s grin because that race was closer than Toretto knows, but not being cowed fits Brian Spilner’s attitude because he’s just a young punk looking for somewhere to belong, and he doesn’t know any better. 

Brian Earl Spilner has never had a pack, never had a pack that turned away. 

The cops come because of course they do, and if it’s planned, no one bothered to tell Brian. But he uses it, tracking Toretto as he tries to blend – wolves are persistence predators who never give up; cougars ambush. So Brian waits until Toretto’s been spotted by a cop and then pounces, giving Toretto a get-away driver who drives best when there’s traffic around to distract pursuers. 

The quarter mile is Toretto’s place to shine and so, on the run from the cops, adrenaline pounding in both their systems, Brian shows him what he can _really_ do. 

And it works, at least until the fucking Tran pack surround them on those stupid fucking crotch-rockets. 

…

The wolves (about a third of the gang with Tran) ignore Brian for Toretto, except for the one Toretto calls Lance, Johnny Tran’s cousin. There’s something _off_ about his scent, something sharp and bitter. 

There was a kid in juvie who smelled like that. He was human, and he circled around the younger boys like a shark, looking for the weakest. Brian wouldn’t be surprised if he’d gone on to become a serial killer or something like that, and he keeps his eyes on Lance while the rest of his senses track the pack, memorizing everything about them. 

Johnny Tran hates Toretto but Lance is the dangerous one. Tran will follow whatever his alpha says, both because he’s a son and a member of the pack. But Lance – he leans in close to Brian, scenting him, and murmurs, “What are you, kitty cat?” 

Brian doesn’t react, his eyes the only part of him that moves. Part of him wants to snarl something, to lash out, but that’ll play into Lance’s game and this is Toretto’s show, not his.

Whatever the endgame is here, Johnny Tran does not want to start a war, so his pack gets back onto their bikes and leave. For just a moment, Brian thinks that’s the end of it but then the engines are getting louder and he and Toretto jump away from the car in the same second as the Trans shoot it to pieces. 

_Fucking NOS_ , Brian thinks the same moment Toretto shouts it and they dive behind separate cover, Brian clutching his ears like that’ll help mute how loud the explosion is. Fucking cat hearing. 

…

Toretto’s excuse leaves much to be desired: apparently, a business deal between the packs went sour, and he also slept with Johnny Tran’s sister. Which is an out and out lie, because Brian knows that Johnny Tran has two younger brothers and numerous female cousins but no sisters. He lets Toretto skate by, though, because Brian Spilner wouldn’t know that.

“You know I’m a wolf,” Toretto rumbles after the second block passes in awkward silence. “So are the Trans.” 

“Yeah,” Brian mutters, rolling his shoulders. The adrenaline’s finally wearing down but there’s still a ringing in his ears. 

“What kind of cat are you?” Toretto asks, turning to square off against Brian. 

Brian stares at him without blinking for a good long minute, eyebrow raised before remembering he’s supposed to be Spilner, so he glances down. “Mountain lion,” he says, then, “Do taxis run on this side of town?” because Spilner is also new to LA. 

Toretto chuckles, slow and deep. “We gotta go a little further to find one, Spilner.” 

Brian just keeps walking next to him, untangling himself from Spilner. He can’t fuck this up, won’t. He’s a cop, they’re suspects, and Rome’s ghost is keeping pace with him, angry and yapping on about betrayal, which, _no_. Brian never betrayed him. And he won’t be betraying the Torettos (if they’re the thieves) because they are _not_ pack. Brian doesn’t _have_ a pack. 

Toretto catches them a taxi and they sit in silence for the drive, and then Brian leaves him at the front walk, so tired and done with the whole night. 

But Toretto calls him back. Toretto invites him into the den. Toretto grabs a beer out of his packmate’s hand to give to Brian. 

He _is_ in. 

…

He’d been right that they’d check him out; the best covers are ones that are the truth, minus a few details. Brian Spilner has the same brushes with the law as Brian O’Connor, minus a packmate and minus O’Connor turning his life around. Brian Spilner’s a good guy but kind of an idiot, and he’s been looking for somewhere to belong. Brian O’Connor knows that what he’s got is all he’ll ever have 

It’s Toretto ( _Dom_ ) who invites Brian Spilner in; it’s Mia who makes him welcome. The way she controls Johnson shows that while she may not be alpha, she’s definitely second in the pack. It’ll take both their approval for new members to join (not that he wants to join, not that he will for real) and he’s well on his way to earning it. 

He knows he has when Dom smiles at him (without teeth) and says, “You still owe me a ten second car.” 

…

Brian doesn’t sleep much that night. He wants to roam around, learn the territory, settle in. Imagines curling up with the pack that isn’t his, that he doesn’t want. He _doesn’t_. He needs to report in, let Bilkins and Tanner know the little he’s learned the last week. 

When the sirens sound the next morning, he’s not surprised but he still puts up a damned good show. 

…

Bilkins doesn’t tell him anything new, just barks at him like a pissed off Chihuahua. Brian wants to snarl at him but doesn’t because – well, unfortunately Bilkins outranks him so a few sarcastic remarks are okay but truly letting loose isn’t. Damnit. 

Tanner tries to keep the peace and he’s pretty good at it, so Brian lets himself keep calm. Brian doesn’t have much for them that’s new, either – everything goes back to Dom and his pack because even if they’re not the ones hijacking, Dom definitely knows who is. 

The only good thing that comes from the meeting is getting that ten second car for Dom, in bad enough condition that it’ll require time and effort to fix, which means that Dom’ll need to have him around. 

…

Dom says, _I have faith in you_. 

_He owns you now_ , Mia says. 

Brian knows it’s all a lie but working at the garage is soothing. Listening to the Toretto pack poke and prod at each other, all in good fun, being drawn in so easily – it’s all so _easy_. Like running with Rome had been. 

_Keep your head,_ Brian has to tell himself, time and time again. _Remember why you’re here, O’Connor_. 

It gets harder when Dom invites him to dinner at the den, when Jesse prays to the car gods and Brian just wants to curl around him and protect him from the world. The kid is everyone’s favorite, harmless and twitchy, a tiny little kitten in with a pack of wolves who would never hurt him. 

Brian even asks, while Jesse is rambling on about his latest car design, “What kind are you?” and Jesse answers, “[Gray tabby](http://kieran4332.webs.com/gray_cat_by_Mad5k1y.jpg),” peering apprehensively up at Brian, so clearly someone has given him a hard time before. Not the pack or he wouldn’t be so at ease here. 

“What about you?” Jesse asks, settling down when jeering doesn’t come. 

Brian chuckles, reaching out to run his fingers along Jesse’s shoulders. “Mountain lion,” he says. 

Jesse just blinks up at him. “No shit?” 

He grins without showing his teeth. “All my life,” he says. 

Looking back at the computer, Jesse says, “So you could easily kick Vince’s ass ?” 

Brian chuckles again. “I could, yeah, but that might piss off Dom.” 

Vince seems to be coming around, anyway. He comes back to the barbeque, sinks into the chair across from Brian. He makes comments after, when Brian’s helping Mia with the dishes but Mia puts him in his place and even gives Brian a date. 

He needs to be careful because there’s other ways to stay close. The more time he spends with the Toretto pack the less he thinks the hijackers are them. Surely Dom’s too smart to put his pack in harm’s way like that. The Trans, or even Hector’s pack of coyotes and foxes, it’s gotta be them. 

Brian goes sniffing around the garages, leaping onto the roofs and slinking in the windows. He listens carefully while examining Hector’s cars and it’s like a blow when the tires don’t match. 

As he crawls back onto the roof, he hears Vince’s heartbeat. He shouldn’t have come in that recognizable truck. He pauses, completely silent, and listens – Dom’s nearby, too. Fucking shit. A human would be caught but Brian Spilner’s no more human than Brian O’Connor. 

Vince is lurking with a shotgun, grinding his teeth, still in human shape. He goes down hard when Brian lands on his back, grabbing the shotgun away. He unloads it before Dom can get there, before Vince recovers, throwing it one way and the bullets another. 

Vince comes up shouting, “You’re a cop!” and lunging at Brian, half-shifting. 

Brian snarls, moving in quickly, grabbing Vince’s throat and throwing him back down. 

“Vince!” Dom shouts, pulling Brian off him. “Brian!” 

Brian goes quietly, pulling in his temper. This is such a fucking delicate situation and he _has_ to salvage it, so he sorts through everything while Vince rants about him being a cop. 

It’s hilarious that Vince is the only one who’s figured it out. 

“Brian,” Dom says, stepping between them, eyes the coldest Brian has seen them. “Be careful what you say.” 

“I owe you a ten second car,” Brian says. “You know I can’t lose again.” And he rambles about what he saw in Hector’s garage, and Vince doesn’t believe him but he sees it in Dom’s eyes, how much Dom wants to. 

Dom soothes Vince with a rumble deep in his chest, with a hand to the back of his neck. Then he looks at Brian and orders, “Let’s go for a little ride.” 

…

Johnny Tran is fucking insane. Brian crouches with Dom and watches him torture some guy, is very aware of Vince fuming behind another car, knows that only the stench of gasoline is shielding them, of Johnny Tran’s anger blinding his ears and nose both. Any sound at all – 

They are _so_ fucking lucky and Brian doesn’t move until the Trans are long gone. He doesn’t realize that Dom must’ve been wanting for him to loosen until Dom says, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” 

Vince’s anger has cooled but as they head for the car, Brian keeps Dom between them. 

…

Bilkins demands another meet and Brian has to report what he’s found. Bilkins wants to pounce on the Trans immediately, wants to finish this whole thing as quickly as possible even though there’s not enough to prove the Trans are guilty, no matter how much Brian wishes there was. 

Tanner asks about Dom, so Brian says, “I told you, I think he’s too controlled for this. I mean, what, going suicidal on semi-trucks? No way.” Dom wouldn’t put his pack at risk like that, Brian is more and more sure of it as the days pass. “Maybe Vince,” Brian admits, “but he’s too stupid and he’d never do it without Dom’s okay, which Dom wouldn’t give.” 

Bilkins goon says out of nowhere, “I think the kid sister’s blurring your vision.” 

Brian looks over at him, demanding, “What’d you say?” 

The guy shrugs. “I don’t blame you. I’d get off on her surveillance photos too, buddy.” 

The guy has stupidly moved closer with every word, so even as Tanner is barking out, “Brian!” Brian lunges for the guy, too quick for any human to respond. The guy is big but easy to put down, fear in his eyes, heart panicking. 

Brian stands up and slowly backs away, hands spread at his side. “You going native on me, Brian?” Tanner asks carefully. The guy is panting on the ground and Bilkins helps him up. “You read Toretto’s file lately?” Tanner asks as Brian looks away from Bilkins and the guy.

“Yeah,” Brian says softly. “I memorized that file.” 

“Read it again,” Tanner commands, annoyance in the words. Brian doesn’t know much about his sergeant, but Tanner knows how to move around shifters, knows how to use the pack structure without being pack himself. He talks about Dom like Dom’s a monster, the kind in those horror movies Brian hated growing up, pulls out pictures of the guy Dom beat. 

There has to be more to that story than is in the file and Brian’s anger is still burning hot, so he tells Tanner, “I need a few more days.” He stalks past the idiot without looking at him, tells Bilkins, too, “I need a few more days,” and then he’s gone. 

It’s gotta be Tran but there’s no proof. It can’t be Dom but there’s no proof of that, either. It’s all a fucking mess, and he wishes for that certainty he had a couple months ago, that he could remain aloof from all this. 

…

The date with Mia is four days after breaking into Trans’ garage. Letty and Leon have been giving him shit about it and Vince is fuming (again? or still? Brian isn’t sure), and Dom decides now is the time to show Brian the most beautiful car he’s ever seen. 

The way he talks about the car, about his dad – he sounds like a little boy, still in the throes of hero worship. “That’s my dad,” he says, pointing at a picture. He sounds so young. 

What Dom says is what is not in the file, the rest of the story. It doesn’t excuse what he did to Kenny Linder – but it explains it. A wolf’s hearing, a wolf’s nose, and Brian shudders. 

The fact that Dom attacked Linder as a man instead of a wolf is the only reason they’re both still alive. 

Brian wants to comfort him but Dom continues softly, “I live my life a quarter mile at a time. Nothing else matters. Not the mortgage, not the store, not my pack and all their bullshit.” 

_No, Dom,_ Brian thinks, horror rising. 

Dom says, “For those ten seconds or less, I’m free.” 

_No,_ Brian thinks again. _Please._

But he just says, “I’m sorry.” Follows Dom out of the garage. Claps him on the back and goes back to work with him. 

The words keep echoing and he wonders if Dom knows he just confessed. 

…

Mia drives them to the restaurant. It’s a bright place and Mia looks even prettier than usual. They talk about books and movies; Brian bullshits about the places he’d seen as he wandered. He waits until they’ve ordered to ask, “So how’d the pack come to be?” 

She hesitates, stumbling on the words as she says, “Well, that’s, that’s a whole lot of history.” Their father wasn’t a shifter, according to the files. Their mother was. 

“I’ve got time,” Brian says, smiling at her, trying his damnedest to appear harmless. 

“Okay,” she says, and talks about when they were kids, Dom and Vince, how their mother was gentle, dealing with two rough boys who got into trouble all the time. Letty grew up down the street, always coming around for the cars but staying for Mrs. Toretto’s warmth. Mr. Toretto invited everyone in. 

“How does Jesse fit into it?” Brian asks. “And Leon?” 

“You mean because Jesse’s a cat and Leon’s human?” she asks wryly, then shrugs. “Jesse just wandered in one day, not long before Mama died. Dom was – Dom was gone, then, almost done with his time, and Leon showed up just after, following Jesse.” She shrugs again. “Mama made them pack and when Dom saw that, he kept them.” Mia nibbles on her lip, saying, “It’s just the way my brother is, you know? Dom’s like… he’s like gravity. Mama was, too. Everything just gets pulled to them.” She studies him for a moment. “Even you.” 

And Brian knows exactly what to say, how to play this moment. He could – he could lie, could charm her. Brian Spilner could love her. 

When everything comes out – and it will, it _will_ , Dom practically confessed this afternoon – 

So he says, “I like you, Mia.” 

She nods. “I like you, too. And this is just fun, right?” 

He could apologize. Instead he just says, “Yeah.” 

And they eat, and they go for a drive, and they have fun in the backroom at Harry’s that’s Brian’s for the duration of this case, and he knows, when Tanner calls, he _knows_ they’re not going to find anything at the Tran den, knows that everything is all spiraling out of control. 

…

Brian O’Connor has not had a pack since he was eighteen years old. Brian Spilner has never had a pack. Brian Spilner is just a character, though. He doesn’t exist. 

Brian isn’t on the team that busts into the Tran den because his scent as a mountain lion is too unique. He’s sitting on the hood of his car on a bluff overlooking Los Angeles, trying to imagine what Rome would say. What Aunt Constance would say. Even what Dom and Mia’s mama would say. 

Then he goes to HQ and waits for the fallout. 

…

Bilkins gets chewed out over the phone. Brian hears everything before Bilkins relays it to Tanner. He knows how it’s all going to go down – he’s just the rookie undercover shifter. Bilkins asks snidely, “Is this the kind of intelligence I can expect from you, O’Connor?” 

Brian says, “You’re gonna put this on me?” even though he’s seen it coming at every meet. 

“I can put this on whoever I want to, kid. Perks of the job.” Bilkins is angry, and that’s fine, because Brian is too. 

“You’re not gonna put this on me,” he says loudly, but he lets Bilkins shout him down with unreasonable demands that would put Brian in hell of a lot of danger, lets Bilkins threaten his job. 

He stalks into the yard, stares down at the pool, ignores when Tanner follows him out to call, “It’s Toretto, Brian. It’s always been Toretto.” He closes his eyes as Tanner continues, “Tran and Hector are – they’re just fumes.” Tanner walks over, using that same soothing tone he must have learned from somewhere, “I know you’ve been lying to me. My question is this: Have you been lying to yourself because you can’t see past Mia?” 

It might’ve been true, in another life. Brian turns to look Tanner in the eye. “He won’t go back in a cage.” Brian remembers the shifter half of juvie, the cell Rome must be in, even now, almost done with his time. 

“Well,” Tanner says, still in that tone, “that’s a choice he’s going to have to make.” Tanner moves in closer. “There’s all kinds of family, Brian.” If he were an alpha, he’d put a hand to the back of Brian’s neck as he says, “And that’s a choice you’re going to have to make.” 

He leaves Brian standing by the pool. 

Humans don’t get it, can’t. Five years without a pack - he shouldn’t need one. Shouldn’t want one. Brian laughs, crouching down to run his fingers through the water. 

The thing Brian O’Connor does best is lie. He lies to himself best of all. “Fuck it,” he mutters, shifting into his other half. He needs the freedom, if only for this last night. 

…

The ten second car is ready. He and Dom test it out, racing some jackass in a Ferrari, Brian’s temper running high. Dom knows something’s up but he lets Brian take his time, even gives him the okay to bait the jackass. 

They stop for lunch. Dom tries that soothing alpha thing and it just – it rubs Brian the wrong way, and he’s tripping all over himself, trying to get Dom to just tell him the truth. Thirty-six hours for proof, that’s all he has, Race Wars ahead, and he knows. He knows. 

He sounds angry but keeps his voice down, demanding to be let in, and Dom gives him the location of Race Wars instead. “We’ll see how you do,” Dom says, “then we’ll talk.” 

Fuck everything. Brian grits his teeth, curls his fingers into fists. Dom’s grinning at him, just a hint of teeth. 

“Fine,” he says.

…

Race Wars is mostly human with a few shifters. Brian races and wins, races and wins. It’s easy, against humans. He takes a break to track down the Toretto pack and when he finds Jesse – 

Jesse is about to race Johnny fucking Tran. “Don’t do it,” Brian says as Tran meets his gaze, smiling with all of his teeth. This is a trap and Jesse’s caught. 

Brian sees how it will all play out and he follows Leon back to the Toretto setup, feeling the snarl build in his throat. He hears Leon say, “He just raced Tran for slips,” and if Tran hadn’t pulled up right then, Brian would have thrown Leon onto the ground for letting Jesse get into such a mess. 

But Tran challenges Dom, calls him a snitch. Dom’s on him until security pulls him off, shouting, “I never narc’d on nobody!” Vince and Letty pull him away, Tran still bleeding on the ground. 

When Brian goes to follow, he comes face to face with Lance. “Hey, pretty kitty,” Lance says, blood dripping down his face. He reaches out to touch Brian and Brian catches his hand, lets his nails shift into claws. 

“Don’t touch me,” Brian says softly, steadily meeting Lance’s gaze as the crowd disperses, the fight over.

Lance blinks first, pulls his hand away. There are faint scores in his skin. Brian lets him go, hurrying to catch up to Dom. 

Brian’s never seen Dom this angry. Vince glares at him, but Brian’s still pissed at Leon and goes straight for him, grabbing him by the throat and shouting, “How could you let him race Tran?!” 

“Brian!” Dom says. “Brian, he’s human!” 

“I know,” Brian says. He loosens his hold slightly. “If they hurt Jesse, I’ll hurt you.” Leon’s eyes are wide, the stench of terror on the air.

“Jesse’ll be fine,” Dom says, reaching for the back of Brian’s neck. 

Brian moves away. Dom’s hand drops. Letty, Mia, and Vince are all silent as Brian turns to face Dom. “I’m going for a walk,” he bites out, retracting his claws. 

Fuck, it’s all such a mess. He’s too close. It’d be so easy to slip in, but it’s all a lie. They like Brian Spilner, who doesn’t exist. 

He walks until long after sunset, tracking the Tran pack mostly on autopilot. They want to hurt Dom and it doesn’t matter how. The clock is winding down. Brian is so fucked. 

He heads back to the Toretto camp to see if Mia’s up for one last tumble before everything explodes and instead hears her yelling at Dom, begging him not to – 

“Are you fucking _serious_?” Brian hisses, watching Dom, Vince, Letty, and Leon drive away. Mia’s crying. Jesse’s missing. 

Fuck, and he hasn’t warned them – 

“Mia, where are they going?” he demands. 

“What?” she asks. 

“Come on, what’s your brother racing off in the middle of the night for?” He doesn’t mean to get louder. “I’m talking about the trucks. You know about the trucks?” 

He’s still an outsider. She won’t tell him a thing unless he plays the one card he has. 

This case was fucked from the beginning, wasn’t it? 

“Listen to me,” he says, forcibly turning her around. “Mia, listen. I’m a cop.” 

She doesn’t believe him. “What are you talking about?” 

“Ever since I first started coming around,” he murmurs, “I’ve been undercover. I’m a cop.” 

She snarls and pulls away but he keeps with her. “I like you,” he says. “I like all of you. But Dom’s about to pull a job and we’re running out of time.” He lays it all out, that there’s no way to escape, that the truckers are arming themselves, and then he says, “You have to help me before it’s too late.” 

There are still tears in her eyes as she betrays her pack and follows him to the car. 

…

They figure out where Dom must be going and he calls in a trace, and Mia’s scent is angry and hurting, and this is Rome all over again, except worse. He didn’t know about Rome till after everything was done. But this – 

“What’s going to happen?” Mia asks as they wait for the trace to run. 

“I don’t know,” Brian says. “I just – I don’t know.” 

…

They finally get there and everything’s fucked. 

All three cars are down. Vince is trapped on the side of the truck, tangled in wire and bleeding. Even shifting won’t help him now – he’d still be caught without a way to hold on. Brian gets rid of the roof and tells Mia to take the wheel. Wolves are strong and fast and steady – but cats are goddamned acrobats, and this isn’t worse than anything he and Rome ever did. 

He jumps onto the truck, grabs the mirror, and keeps up a steady patter for Vince’s sake, for Mia’s. He cuts his hands on the wire but untangles Vince and throws him into the car, leaping to safety just as the driver tries to blow his head off. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants as Mia pulls away. He can hear Vince’s heart racing but all the blood is just pouring out, his arm is jacked to hell, and he doesn’t need Mia shouting, “We need help!” to know what he has to do. It’s the only chance Vince has. 

He just wishes Dom hadn’t got there in time to hear him say, “This is Officer Brian O’Connor.” 

Brian feels the danger as the wolf in Dom draws a bead on him but he keeps reciting the necessary info for the chopper and keeps Vince alive until it arrives. Dom and the rest of the pack flee as Brian helps load Vince into the helicopter, telling the medic everything he knows. 

He doesn’t call Tanner or Bilkins or anyone. He checks the cars abandoned on the side of the road, cleans them for prints. “This is fucking stupid,” he mutters but he doesn’t stop. The one that’s flipped over is leaking fuel so he gives it the spark it needs. 

He bangs his head on his steering wheel and then he starts the car. 

…

He goes to Dom’s house and gets there as Dom’s about to climb into the Charger he said he was afraid to drive, armed with a shotgun. Brian pulls his own gun and the situation just – 

How did it get this bad? Jesse’s still on the run from the Trans, Leon and Letty are gone, Vince probably won’t make it. “You _are_ the cop!” Dom shouts and Brian wants to scream, “What kind of alpha are you?” but he doesn’t because that’s when Jesse pulls up. 

Jesse’s panicking, and Dom drops the shotgun, and they all hear the engines about the same time. 

Brian moves before he thinks about it, shifting mid-leap to cover Jesse, throwing them both to the ground. Jesse shifts, too, curling up beneath him, trembling and crying. Mia and Dom have to wait until the Trans are gone, until the bullets stop flying, but thank Jesse’s car gods, Brian doesn’t smell blood. 

He can still hear the engines. He shifts back and heads for where he dropped his gun, climbs into his car. He can’t think about how close Jesse came to dying, or what Dom’s going to do. If he can get to the Trans first, the situation is salvageable. 

They pepper his car with bullets, aren’t even really aiming, and he should call for backup but he doesn’t. They move in precision like he and Rome used to, almost trap him, but then Dom’s there in that beast of a car and Lance is down. Johnny is panicking, there are sirens in the distance, and Brian’s got him in sight, takes aim. Fires. 

He checks the body though he doesn’t need to and turns to see Dom in the distance. Waiting. 

_What kind of alpha are you?_ he thinks even as he begins the chase. 

…

“There are good alphas and bad alphas,” Aunt Constance told Brian when he was twelve, after he’d led Rome into another mess. They got each other into trouble equally, both loud-mouthed, both reckless. Mom would only sigh but Aunt Constance would shake her head, would try to make sure they’d learned a lesson. 

Brian learned a lot of lessons. Aunt Constance was never his alpha, though he was in the pack because he and Rome were brothers. _Are_ brothers, maybe, if Rome will ever talk to him again. 

Brian doesn’t have a pack, doesn’t need an alpha. And Dom – Dom loves his pack, but the heists, choosing that last job over finding Jesse. Risking everything, and for what? Maybe he had a reason. Maybe he didn’t. Brian doesn’t know, but it doesn’t matter. 

He catches up to Dom at a redlight, pulls up next to him. “I used to drag race here when I was in high-school,” Dom tells him conversationally. “That railroad crossing up there is exactly a quarter mile away from here.” Brian looks over as Dom says, “On green, I’m going for it.” 

What the fuck is this? But Brian feels something in him settle. Dom wants to race, they’ll race. Letty and Leon are gone, Vince may survive, Mia and Jesse are safe. Lance might be dead; Johnny definitely is. So he’ll let Dom have this. 

The light turns. Dom’s driving his dad’s car and Brian’s in the car they rebuilt together. A train’s coming but neither of them hesitate. 

Brian doesn’t back down. It’s possibly the stupidest thing about him. 

He’s slightly ahead as they explode across the crossing just before the train. He thinks for just a moment that they’re home free – 

A fucking semi hits Dom and his car flips. Rolls. 

Brian can still hear his heartbeat but something isn’t right as he rushes over. Dom’s left shoulder isn’t hanging right so Brian helps him out of the car. 

Sirens in the distance. Something not quite right about Dom’s breathing. One working car. 

_What kind of alpha are you?_

Brian offers the keys. 

“You know what you’re doing?” Dom asks instead of taking the out. 

“I owe you a ten second car,” Brian says. 

Without him, there’s no case. Without the driver, there’s no case. 

Brian watches him walk away, watches him drive. 

Cougars are solitary. There’s nothing keeping him in LA except the job he just quit, except the pack of wolves, a human, and a cat that won’t want him now. 

So he runs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You make a far better criminal,” Carter purrs in his ear, “than you ever did a cop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Evanescence; some dialogue taken directly from the film  
> Warnings: AU, violence, references to bad things happening in prison  
> Pairings: Brian O’Connor/Carter Verone, Suki/Tej Parker  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 12015  
> Point of view: third 
> 
> So… I did not begin the first part expecting Brian to fall in love with Carter Verone. However, that is where this ends up, so… 
> 
> I am planning to continue this into an AU of the fourth movie and already know how it’ll work. Whether or not Brian and Dom end up together… I am yet unsure.

He takes a change of clothes and leaves everything else, his badge, his driver’s license, anything of importance. Checks in on Vince, calls in every last favor owed to him for a car not in his name, gets the hell out of Dodge. Cuts his hair, stops shaving his stubble, and drives. 

… 

He knows going to the races is stupid but he needs cash and he needs it quick. He never loses, earning cash and trading in cars when he needs to, and he travels east, staying ahead of the manhunt by the skin of his teeth. 

Almost gets caught a few times but if there’s one thing a puma knows, it’s the feel of an ambush. 

Almost calls Harry or Hector or Edwin or Mia, just to check in on the Toretto pack – but they’re not his. He’s not part of the pack. Vince is alive. Leon and Letty had returned to the den, last he heard. Jesse’s fine, Mia was brought in for questioning but not charged with anything, and Dom… 

There is no case without Officer Brian O’Connor, and he’s in the wind, not even stirring dirt behind him. 

He takes his time, wandering like Brian Spilner claimed to have. Tries new food, listens to new music, learns new scents and sounds. His only plan is to avoid notice, and he drives. 

…

He waits until the very last second to choose between Miami and New York, and then he goes south, if only so that the weather will feel like home. 

…

He doesn’t use his name when he rolls into Miami, nearly ten months since he fled LA. He avoids racing for the first few weeks, just watches from the crowd, seeing who the main players are. With no ID, he won’t be able to find a legitimate job, not that he wants one. He’s got enough money saved up to last about two months and the heat’s died down. 

“You got any work?” he asks the local in charge of the races, a guy named Tej Parker with his own garage. He smiles winningly, letting his teeth show since Parker’s a human. 

“You any good with cars?” Parker shoots back. 

Brian’s grin widens. “A bit.” 

…

He has to prove himself, of course, and not just to Parker – a human and shifter form his crew, and Brian knows they’ll all have to okay it, since it’s under the table. Jimmy Lee’s human, a chill dude who reminds Brian a little of Leon, but he quickly shoves that and all further comparisons away because he’s just Brian here. No past, no last name. Just Brian. 

Of the three, the shifter, Suki Ikeda, is Brian’s favorite. She’s wary around him the first day or so until he settles on a table and waits for her to come to him. “Hi,” he says, smiling without teeth. 

“Hi,” she says back. She blinks even less than he does; he wonders if humans find it as unnerving as he does. “I’m Suki. This is my territory.” She squares up but still keeps out of reach. 

“Brian,” he says. “I’m hoping to settle in but if you want me gone, I’m gone.” 

She steps closer; Brian keeps his hands in sight, his body curled up to look smaller. “What are you?” she asks. 

Parker and Lee are lurking near the doorway, and they perk up at the question. There are about as many shifters in Miami as there are in LA, and they’re mostly canine. Brian’s caught a few other scents, tried to guess what they might be. Suki’s a bird and that’s all he knows. 

“Mountain lion,” Brian says. “You?” 

She smiles, without teeth. “[Cormorant](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_cormorant). You race?” 

He laughs. “I’ve been known to.” 

…

Parker and Lee are in Suki’s pack (though she doesn’t call it a pack), along with a dozen young women who follow her from race to race but don’t race themselves. Brian hangs out with Parker ( _Tej_ ) for a few races after he starts working at the garage and it’s not until a scheduled racer can’t make it that Brian races in Miami. 

He wins, of course. He wins by a mile and Tej laughs, “You’re like a bullet, dawg!” 

Only Suki’s pack calls him Brian. To everyone else, he becomes _Bullit_ and that’s fine with him. 

…

There are quite a few packs in Miami so Brian sticks to the public areas, where he’s least likely to accidentally start something. Once or twice, he scents another puma but whoever it is avoids him. Canines are prevalent, of course, and more avian than he’s ever scented before, of all kinds. Maybe a few ursine, which would make his decade, for sure. And cats, of all sizes. A few shifters have scents he doesn’t recognize at all, something cold-blooded and a little frightening.

He only scans the news to make sure he’s not on it, and he stays away from gangs. He works at Tej’s garage and he races, and when he’s not racing, he obeys every traffic law. Sometimes, he takes a few days and drives away from the city to let his other half loose, and those days are when he’s happiest. 

When he wants a tumble, he goes clubbing. Sometimes, Suki joins him and they dance together till they find what they’re looking for; she and Tej have something going, but Brian doesn’t ask questions. Brian’s favorite club is the Pearl, a place exclusively for shifters. The third time he goes (without Suki, who’s out with her girls tonight), the bartender catches his eye when he’s taking a break from dancing with a handsy canine (one of the small ones, he thinks – the guy smells closer to fox than wolf), handing off a glass of the good stuff with a head tilt to a corner booth, where another cat smiles at him, flashing the tiniest bit of fang. 

Brian salutes him, drains the glass, and heads back to the canine, making sure to smirk over his shoulder at the cat the whole time. When the song ends, the cat stands and saunters through the crowd, eyes never leaving Brian’s. The fox exits without the slightest protest, which makes Brian chuckle. 

“Enjoy the drink?” the cat asks, reaching out to lightly grip Brian’s hip. 

“Best thing I’ve had since Cali,” Brian admits. The cat is barely shorter than him, hair and eyes darker, with a slight accent from way south of the border. Brian slips in close, scenting him; definitely one of the big ones. 

“New to town?” the cat murmurs, scenting him back. 

“Been here a few weeks.” Brian moves back slightly, grinning when the cat follows. He’s without a doubt having fun tonight. 

…

Brian wakes up warm, spread across the most comfortable bed he’s ever been in. He smells breakfast so he stretches, feeling as sated as if he’d been for a run as his other half. It’s been a long time since an encounter with a man went so well – not since his third week in LA. He didn’t want the hassle, not when women were so much easier. 

“I know you’re up,” the cat calls. “Come on out, it’s ready.” 

Brian laughs, going to relieve himself in the ritziest bathroom he’s ever seen. “Shit,” he mutters, looking around. Just who did he go home with? Fuck, they hadn’t even exchanged names. 

The apartment he wanders through is just as nice as the bed and bathroom promised, and he glances out the entertainment room’s window at a gorgeous view of Miami. “Sure is pretty,” he says, stepping into the kitchen, where the cat is wearing a loose T-shirt and blue boxers. Brian had to pull on his pants from last night, and they aren’t comfortable at all. “Got a pair of boxers for me?” he asks, figuring if the dude is making him breakfast he’s not about to get kicked out. 

The cat laughs. “Yeah, go get a pair. I’ll serve this up for us.” 

…

Brian settles across the table from the cat in borrowed boxers and shirt. “I’m Carter,” the cat says as Brian investigates the plate: bacon and eggs and biscuits, all homemade. 

“You cooked this?” Brian asks, carefully picking up one of the biscuits. 

“Yeah,” Carter says. “My daddy grew up a rich boy in Texas so he made sure all of our cooks could do a Texas meal.” He shrugs. “I was bored a lot when I was young.” 

Brian chuckles, neatly halving the biscuit and reaching for the honey butter. “I’m Brian,” he says. The biscuit tastes better than any diner had, all through the south. 

They chat about music and cars and the differences between LA and Miami all through breakfast, take a shower together in Carter’s massive bathroom, then take separate showers to actually get clean. 

“I’d like to see you again,” Carter says as Brian pulls on last night’s clothes, so Brian leans in to nip at his lips, damn near purring as Carter’s hand slides up his back, under the shirt. 

“We should go running together,” Brian says. “Somethin’ tells me your other half’s gorgeous.” 

Carter’s laugh is low, with the slightest hint of a roar. “I’d enjoy that,” he murmurs, and claws slowly trail down Brian’s spine. He shivers, swaying in. “I have meetings all day,” Carter says. “And I’m busy tomorrow, too. How about we meet at the Pearl at dusk on Thursday. Are you busy Friday?” 

Brian grins brightly. “Nothing I can’t move.” 

…

Brian spends Tuesday at the garage, after swinging by his boat to change clothes. Suki and Tej are in the middle of a fight, so Brian talks mostly with Jimmy about various mods they’re making. Wednesday, Brian wanders through the public spaces in Little Havana, just seeing the sights and trying to pick out different dialects of Spanish. 

He races Wednesday night and pockets a nice piece of cash. Out of the goodness of his heart, he lets the rookie keep his pink slip and tells him, “Wait till you’re a little more experienced to bet your car, kid.” He brushes away the ghost of the past, of a deep voice rumbling with laughter, and instead imagines running with Carter. 

On Thursday, tourists come into the garage with an emergency in their engine and Brian’s the only one available because Suki and Tej made up and Jimmy’s running an errand to Tampa for parts. It takes all day, and even then, he doesn’t finish. He makes a note in the message book for Tej, tells the tourists to come back tomorrow, and hurries to his boat to shower and change. 

Carter’s already at the Pearl waiting, in a loose dress shirt and a pair of dark-washed jeans, hair fluffy around his face. “I suppose you have a favorite spot,” he says as Brian settles beside him at the bar. 

“Yeah, I’ve been there a couple times since I got here.” Brian leans in enough that he can look up at Carter through his lashes. “But this is your territory, Carter. You can pick if you want.” 

“I’ve been here a long time,” Carter muses, his hand slinking out to rest on Brian’s hip. “Let’s see if your spot is somewhere I’ve never been before.” 

“Alright,” Brian chuckles. “You ready?” 

“After you,” Carter says. 

…

They take Brian’s car; Brian just barely breaks the law, going a mere 15 over the speed limit. He can’t help but show off just a little, weaving in and out of traffic dangerously, and Carter just laughs beside him. 

One patrolman tries to catch them but Brian just drives faster and loses him in no time flat. 

“I am impressed,” Carter says, leaning back in the seat. “Where’d you learn to drive like that?” 

“I may have boosted cars in my youth,” Brian says. “And I may race from time to time.” 

He glances over to catch Carter’s smile, wide and full of teeth. “Are you a criminal, Brian?” he asks. 

“Maybe,” Brian says. 

Carter laughs. “If we still like each other after this run, we need to talk.” He reaches out to gently scratch at the back of Brian’s head, trails a single claw along the back of Brian’s neck. “I may have a business proposition for you.” 

…

Brian hides the car and stretches, watching Carter do the same. There’s not much light out here, far enough away from the light pollution of Miami, so Brian lets his eyes shift first. Carter leaps up, into the closest tree, shifting midair, and Brian gapes at him. “You’re a goddamned [black panther](http://www.thelovelyplanet.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/Black_Jaguar_Sikaris.jpg)?” he asks before shrugging and following him into the tree. 

They play tag all night long, and Brian wins as much as he loses. It’s been years since he encountered a shifter bigger than him; every trick he has, Carter has too. It’s invigorating. 

As the sun is rising, they stalk and pounce each other all the way back to Brian’s car. After they shift back, Brian says, “You’ve showed me your den. Can I show you mine?” 

“Of course,” Carter says, leaning in to gently bite Brian’s throat. 

…

The houseboat is nothing compared to Carter’s apartment but it’s the closest thing Brian’s had to an actual den since he left Barstow. It’s got a few more personal touches than his apartment in LA, than the backroom at Harry’s. 

“I like it,” Carter says, and then adds, “But we’ll have to add some security, Brian, if you expect to stay here.” 

“Is that so?” Brian asks, backing Carter up till he gracefully falls back onto the bed. 

“That’s so,” Carter says, pulling Brian down onto him. 

…

They don’t make it out of bed till near dinnertime. Brian has half a dozen missed calls, (mostly from Tej) and a couple irate voicemails (both from Tej) but he just laughs and texts back _I’ll call you later, bro_. The only food in the boat is leftovers, which Carter turns his nose up at, so Carter says, “I’ll have some Cuban delivered so we can have that conversation.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Brian says. He decides his human skin is too confining at the moment, already missing the freedom of the night before, so he shifts while Carter’s dialing the number. 

“Now, that’s just not fair,” Carter says, walking over to rub at Brian’s ears. Brian chuffs at him, arching his back. “I speak jaguar, Brian, not cougar.” But he just sighs indulgently and digs both hands into the fur on Brian’s neck. 

…

Brian shifts back when the food is delivered and they both stretch out on the bed. They eat in silence for a few minutes until Brian says, “You had a proposition?” 

Carter nods. “I need someone I can trust to drive for me, someone that can’t be caught.” 

“Are _you_ a criminal, Carter?” Brian asks. 

Chuckling, Carter grabs a bottled water and sips it, eyes trailing along Brian’s body. “I’m in imports and exports,” he says. 

Brian tenses and asks, “People?” 

“No.” The word is sharp, with a hint of a snarl. “Weapons, drugs, yes, but not people.” 

Brian likes to believe he’s a good judge of character. The debacle with Rome and then Dom has taught him he wasn’t ever meant to be a cop. 

“You should know I was a cop,” he says into the silence. “I fucked up my first undercover op and quit, and then I ran. I’m probably still wanted.” 

“Thank you for telling me,” Carter says in a measured tone that meant he already knew. 

“You looked me up,” Brian chuckles. 

“And you didn’t me.” Carter sounds a tiny bit shocked but Brian just shrugs. “Well,” Carter says, “I’m Carter Verone. You could say I own Miami and about half of Florida. I’ve got Customs breathing down my neck and if the FBI isn’t sniffin’ around yet they will be soon.” 

Brian sets down his plate and turns to look at Carter straight on. “So what would I be driving?” Brian asks. 

…

It’s a simple arrangement but there are a few logistics to work out. Carter doesn’t want Brian connected to him in any way, so the only place they meet is Brian’s spot away from the city. There are various drops around Miami that only Carter’s most trusted know and whatever’s dropped there, Brian drives to wherever Carter wants it. 

He works with Tej and Suki’s pack, races, meanders through Miami. Carter pays for a security upgrade on Brian’s boat and Brian explains to Carter’s security _exactly_ how cops think. They take a few day-trips, just to get away from the eyes on Carter. 

Most of Carter’s people are shifters; his personal bodyguards, Enrique Rosario and Roberto Sanchez, have that cold-blooded scent and Carter laughs at the look on Brian’s face when they tell him what they are – Enrique is a fucking _[crocodile](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/60/Cuban_crocodile.jpg)_ and Roberto is a [constrictor](http://www.educationalresource.info/reptiles/cuban-boa.jpg). 

“That’s… rare,” Brian says, shifting his feet in place. _Reptile_ shifters? That’s a bit terrifying, truth be told. 

Enrique shrugs. “An island thing, I think.” Roberto nods. 

“Well, okay, then,” Brian says. “You and your people know how to fight, shifted and not?” 

“Si,” Roberto says. 

“Good.” Brian glances around Carter’s conference room, listening for the faint whine that means bugs are in place. It’s hard to bug a canine or feline’s den because of their hearing, but the techs work hard for a reason. 

“You make a far better criminal,” Carter purrs in his ear, “than you ever did a cop.” 

“Yeah,” Brian sighs. “I wanna run tonight.” 

…

“What are you mixed up in, Bullit?” Suki asks as they dance in Pearl. Brian feels Carter’s eyes on him and Suki’s slightly tense which means she feels a predator’s gaze. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Brian says, spinning her so that her back is plastered to his front and wrapping his arms around her middle. He looks up, meeting Carter’s gaze, and doesn’t look away until the song changes. 

…

Before Brian knows it, he’s been in Miami for almost a year. The eyes on Carter’s organization have tightened so much that he and Carter can only meet up out of the city, every few days when Carter goes on ‘business trips’ with only his most trusted. Brian only drives the absolutely vital things and Carter uses random thugs as drivers to keep attention diverted. 

Every time they hire someone who’ll be close to Carter, Roberto or Enrique run it by Brian; early on, he catches two undercover agents so they’re fired (but not executed, because Brian had asked for it). The third time, with Carter’s new logistics handler, Brian had said, “We should let one in, so we can control what they know.” 

Sometimes, when he stops and thinks, he wonders at what he’s becoming. What he and Rome could’ve been if they hadn’t gone separate ways. Carter loves telling him how good he is at this, Carter’s second, his right hand, most trusted. Brian’s not _in_ the business, he tells himself, sometimes. He just drives. Just offers advice. 

He boosted cars. He aided and abetted. He obstructed justice. 

He toed the line for five years, trying to do the right thing. He toed the line, and when the choice had to be made, he crossed right over, cut his losses and ran, and he didn’t look back. 

(He could check in, now, surely it’s been long enough. He might still be on wanted lists but surely no one’s looking anymore. Dom and Mia, Letty and Jesse, even Leon and Vince – they were the closest he’d come to a pack since Rome, and it was all a lie.) 

“Well, if she’s actually good at her job,” Carter says, glancing over Monica Fuentes’ credentials, “I might invite her to come live at the compound.” He smirks, baring his teeth. 

“Avian shifter,” Brian notes. “You know what kind?” 

Carter nods. “[Mockingbird](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/09/Mimus_polyglottos_adult_02_cropped.jpg). I think they believe the last two got fired for being human.” 

Brian chuckles. “Okay, well the good thing is that most avians don’t have as powerful a sense of smell as us, so we should be fine on that front.” He sighs, reaching out to pull Carter to him by the shirt. “We’ll have to be even more careful, though.” 

“I know.” Carter sighs, too. “We should either give them something so they’ll get off my back or maybe start over somewhere?” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, babe,” Brian says. “Let’s see what the undercover can give us, first.” 

…

Brian sees Monica Fuentes face-to-face for the first time at a race. Even if he didn’t already know she was UC, she doesn’t quite fit in with the scene. He notices her before the race starts, and is glad she came tonight instead of last night because he was running with Carter. But tonight, he can show off. 

Carter had mentioned sending his agent around for new talent for a major run, something he wasn’t going to risk on Brian, but this’ll be catching two birds with one stone. Brian getting tangled up in the case can only be bad for it, and if things go sour, Carter’s got the connections to get him free. 

He makes sure to meet her gaze, stalking around like the big cat he is, alphaing the race even though it’s technically Suki’s territory. Suki and Tej are on again, so she’s in a good enough mood to not mind. He keeps Fuentes’ gaze until she turns away, looking intrigued, and he grins. 

Carter’s going to be pissed for sure, but that makes it even more fun. 

…

Slap Jack and Orange Julius put up a fight, but they’re only human. He hears Suki’s yell as she flies over the bridge and it just makes his grin widen. He gives Tej his cut, scanning the crowd till he meets Fuentes’ eye, and then he slinks through the crowd to catch her just in time for her to say, “It’s time to get out of here.” 

He hears the sirens and thinks, _The game’s on._

It quickly becomes obvious that they’re hunting him and he’s considering letting them catch him when the agent in the vest points what looks like a rocket at his car and fires. After that, he doesn’t have a choice. 

…

They’re not unduly rough on him; no ‘accidentally’ slamming him into doorways, no shoves a little too forceful. Maybe it’s because they’re Customs’ instead of Miami PD, he isn’t sure. They are careful to have a few wolves in sight the whole time but the guy in charge, the guy with the rocket, he’s human and the underling shadowing him is just a fox. 

“We know you’re Brian O’Connor,” the agent in charge says, and there’s a familiar scent wafting in from the hall. 

Bilkins. Shit. That makes things more complicated. 

…

No matter how circumspect they’ve been, no matter that they haven’t been seen in public since the second date, no matter that Brian always snuck into the compound under cover of darkness and as his other half, they could not be certain they’d managed to keep everything under wraps. 

“Carter Verone,” DEA Agent Markham announces. “Born in Argentina, but he’s lived most of his life in Miami.” 

It’s all Brian can do to contain his laughter. 

…

They offer him a clean record, to erase all the shit from LA. It seems that Bilkins hasn’t learned his lesson about dangling things in front of Brian. 

What’s interesting is that Bilkins is doubting Fuentes while Markham is blindly trusting in her. He can probably use that, begin tainting the case before he’s even agreed to do anything for them. 

“So what’s the idea here?” he asks, glancing up at Markham. Of the dozen people in the room, Brian’s the only shifter except for Dunn, who’s something small, probably a fox. Stupid. “Dunn and I are supposed to be street racers?” 

“That’s right,” Markham says so Brian moves his stare to Dunn. 

It’s insulting, is what it is. 

Brian oozes out of the seat in one smooth move, silently pads over to Dunn. Humans don’t like it when he moves like his other half while wearing human skin, and Dunn knows he’s feline, something big. He gives him a bullshit question without an answer and Dunn fumbles a response, after looking to Markham for help. 

Pathetic. He glances back at Bilkins, scoffs, “Seriously, if this is what you’re gonna give me, I may as well take my chances in Chino.” 

Bilkins sighs heavily. “We’ll get someone else.” 

Brian shakes his head, going back to his seat. “No way, man. The only way I’ll do this is if I get to pick the driver.” 

Bilkins sighs again. “Alright, O’Connor – who you got in mind?” 

He wants to say, “Dominic Toretto,” if only for the reaction. But even though they need him and Brian doesn’t need any of them at all, pushing Bilkins too much too soon might give the game away. Besides, he’s been missing his first packmate something fierce, so he says, “This dude I grew up with in Barstow.” 

“Who’s that?” Bilkins asks. 

Brian can’t contain the slight smile. “Roman Pearce.” 

…

Bilkins allows him to go back to his boat for a change of clothes so long as an escort goes with him. Bilkins must not think he’s a flight risk because the escort is just two humans, and neither of them know he’s a shifter. Considering how fucked their last op in LA was, it’s a major show of trust that Brian definitely has not earned. 

Maybe Bilkins is trying something new to see if it’ll work better. That’s his mistake, though, and Brian intends to take full advantage of it. He palms one of the emergency phones after packing his bag and tells the babysitters, “I gotta piss.” While in the tiny bathroom, he texts Carter, _going uc for feds against you_ and sends it, then _will contact when I can dont worry_ , and then _getting old packmate DO NOT HURT HIM_ , which hopefully will be enough to hold off Carter’s temper till he has time to actually explain things. 

He leaves the phone in the bolthole in the bathroom and exits to glare at the babysitter rifling through the papers on his desk. 

“Let’s go,” he says. 

…

Thankfully, Bilkins doesn’t try to make smalltalk. He also doesn’t bring along anyone else on their trip to Barstow. Brian knows they haven’t tagged him so this display of trust is staggering. There’s a company car waiting at the airport and Brian grins, showing some teeth. 

“I’m driving.” 

…

Since there’s a Fed in the car, Brian obeys most traffic laws. But they have a schedule to keep and Carter’s probably losing his mind back home, and Brian kinda wants to get this whole thing over because seeing Rome again – it’s going to hurt. Both of them. 

Bilkins had a minion somewhere tracking Rome down while they were on the cross-country flight, and Brian’s not surprised where he is: the Barstow Speedway, last car driving wins. If Rome can’t fly down highways anymore, this is the next best thing. And with his ankle monitor, he’s still in a cage. 

Just that thought alone is enough for Brian to bring him in, to try to free him. He’s still not sure about the endgame; that’ll have to wait till he can talk with Carter. But it’ll work out, somehow, because it has to. Brian won’t accept anything less. 

Bilkins sounds dubious so Brian tries to talk Rome up, but he probably just makes things worse. 

Brian knows the instant Rome’s high fades enough for him to realize what he’s been smelling, and when Rome’s eyes find him, Brian sits up taller. Rome immediately takes off so Brian follows, jogging slightly to catch up. 

“Pearce! Roman Pearce!” he calls and Rome just speeds up, so Brian sighs and looks over his shoulder to order Bilkins, “Yo, whatever happens next, just let it go.” With Bilkins agreeing, Brian whistles sharply, their old signal that they’d been caught, and shouts, “Rome!” 

Rome slows down, stops, and turns, looking angrier than Brian has ever seen him. 

It’s been seven years. They kept talking after Brian left to become a cop, but Rome shut down after he got busted. Brian sent a few letters but they were all returned unopened. Aunt Constance asked him to stop calling her for updates. Rome completely cut him out. 

And Brian gets it, he does. But this is a wound he’s never treated, just ignored. 

So when Rome says, “Only my homeboys get to call me that, _pig_ ,” and spits, Brian’s hurt by it, but there’s some anger welling, too. 

“I’m not a cop anymore, bro,” he says and Rome doesn’t believe him, has to demand of Bilkins, just lurking there, “Is that true?” stalking over like he’s some predator, “Blondie here’s not a cop anymore?” 

“That’s true,” Bilkins says, sounding goddamned _amused_ , which erases every ounce of goodwill Brian might’ve had for him. “No badge.” 

Rome stops within reach. As humans, they’re about the same size, Brian taller with Rome slightly broader. Brian can see the need in him to pace, the rage and pain thrumming through him, and he understands, but they both fucked up, and it was not Brian’s fault Rome got busted. It wasn’t. 

He sees the punch coming. Doesn’t stop it. If Rome needs him to bleed, he gets one freebie. When Rome goes for another, Brian gets him on the ground. 

“You still fight like shit,” Brian tells him, and they’re tussling like boys again, like they’re still cubs with paws too big for their bodies, and if they really wanted to hurt each other, they would be. 

Neither of them win. Neither of them lose. But Brian lets go and Rome sits back to ask, “Why’d you come here, O’Connor?” 

“I got a deal for you,” Brian says, flicking sand at him. 

“When I needed your ass, you were nowhere to be found,” Rome says, grabbing at the tracking monitor. “Now you tryin’ to hand out deals?” He climbs to his feet, all set to stalk off, but now that this chance is in reach, Brian cannot let it go. 

He lunges up to get into Rome’s face. “I need you to come to Miami and drive with me,” he says, and he knows Rome can hear the desperation. “If you do, they’ll take off that anklet and they’ll clear your entire record.” 

Rome snarls. “I did three years in jail, _O’Connor_. In a cage. Three years off you. Maybe I know you better than you think.” 

_Maybe you do_ , Brian admits silently while saying, “Maybe you don’t.” But Rome goes to shove past him and Brian lets him, and Rome goes to Bilkins to ask, “This deal legit?” 

“That’s right,” Bilkins says smugly while smugly eating popcorn, “if you do this job for us.” 

Even though Rome hates him right now, maybe there’s something to that romantic shit about _pack bonds_ because Brian is actually feeling almost happy, so he says, “Told you,” and tries not to grin when Rome shoots back, “Shut up, punk.” 

Rome’s in and it’s like a thousand pounds is off Brian’s shoulders. 

…

They give Rome time to pack his shit up and go visit the Marshals to get the anklet off. Bilkins doesn’t leave them alone for even a minute but he finally nods off on the plane. They both wait until they’re sure, hearing primed for anything to prove he’s faking it. 

“What’s really goin’ on, Brian?” Rome asks quietly because deep down he _does_ know Brian. They’re still pack. It’s not what it was, not yet, but it’s the best Brian’s had since he left Barstow. 

It’s too dangerous to say where anyone could hear, so Brian grabs one of the in-flight magazines and snags a pen from the dude across the aisle. Rome leans over his shoulder as Brian writes, _UC in cops_. 

Rome blinks at the words. Brian turns his head so that they’re face to face, noses brushing. “You?” he murmurs, barely a word. 

Brian nods slightly. He adds, _NO ONE else knows_. 

Rome’s eyes widen. “Shit, bruh.” 

Brian shrugs. 

Rome sits back in the chair and Brian shreds the page, eating it piece by piece till it’s gone. After twenty minutes of silence, Bilkins still snoring away, Rome whispers, “I’ll back your play.” 

…

Brian honestly does not know how much of Rome’s temper tantrum outside the Customs office is backing his play and how much is real. He treats it like it’s real and means every word he says up until, “You need to go back to Barstow.” 

Whichever it is, Rome follows him in and it feels like old times, when they were young and invincible. 

…

Rome hates Markham on sight and the feeling is clearly mutual. He seems to tolerate Bilkins, mostly because he has to, but Brian can already see that Rome will needle Markham every chance he gets. All throughout the briefing on Carter, which makes him seem like the devil, which Brian knows he’ll get a kick out of, Rome keeps muttering comments and then pretending he didn’t whenever Markham reacts. Bilkins is already ignoring him, but it feels like they’re back in school, ganging up on the teachers. 

Brian’s missed it. This is what the Torettos had with each other and almost with him via Brian Spilner. 

“So, what are _we_ gonna do?” Rome demands when the briefing is finally over, gesturing at Brian. 

“Let’s show you,” Bilkins says, leading the way to the garage where a truck is backing in. As the door rises, Brian catches a scent he recognizes and there she is, Markham’s undercover agent. 

“Brian O’Connor, Roman Pearce, meet Monica Fuentes,” Markham says. It’s quite the entrance for her and Brian lets his eyes widen, acts shocked. 

“Do they have background on Verone?” she asks and off Bilkins’ affirmative, she jumps down saying, “Alright, here’s the deal. Verone’s looking for drivers. I’ve arranged for both of you to join up. I’ve also hired some thugs to, you know, make things legit.” 

“When do we start?” Rome asks, sounding excited, not like he hasn’t slept in at least 24 hours. 

“Right now,” Fuentes answers, so Brian asks the important question: “What are we driving?” 

…

Rome chooses the convertible, of course. It’s been a dream of his for a long time. Fuentes chooses to ride with Brian, either because she thinks he’s the alpha (he’s not, and neither is Rome) or so her hair won’t get messed up, or both. 

“You were scoutin’ me,” he says before they’re even out of the lot. 

“I’d heard about a driver who never loses and knew Verone would scoop you up,” she says. “The fact that you’re also O’Connor from LA…” she shrugs. They’re silent for a few miles till she directs, “Turn right up here.” 

“How long you been under?” he asks. 

“I’ve lost track.” She sounds tired. 

He should sound concerned, so he does. “You alright?” He keeps glancing at her, assessing, but she misunderstands. 

“You might wanna keep your eyes on the road, playboy.” There’s some amusement, but also annoyance. 

And a challenge. “What,” he asks, turning his head to look at her, “you think we’re gonna crash?” 

She meets his gaze and holds it, and she blinks but doesn’t look away until he stops at the light, where Rome pulls up beside them and demands, “He did the ‘stare and drive’ on you, didn’t he?” Fuentes is laughing but impressed and they continue on to Carter’s compound, where a few wolves, a fox, and a small cat have parked their cars, waiting. 

“Once we get in here, you’re on your own,” Fuentes says. 

“We’ll be fine,” Brian promises. 

She gives him one last look before climbing out of the car so he smiles at her; she shakes her head and hurries away. 

The rest of the drivers are on the other side of the median, so Brian mutters to Rome, “Keep your mouth shut and follow my lead, alright?” 

Rome mutters back, “I got this.” 

Brian lightly touches his hand. “No, I’m serious now. Remember, there’s more to this.” 

Rome quickly meets his gaze. “Backin’ your play, brother, remember?” 

He nods, mouthing, _Thank you_ , and then they’re with the rest of the drivers, standing in front of Roberto, Enrique, and Julio. Julio disappears but Roberto and Enrique remain, and Rome mutters to Brian, “What the fuck are they?” Brian shrugs since he shouldn’t know. 

Carter’s scent is all over the place; Brian’s isn’t, thankfully. That’d confuse the drivers for sure. They’re chattering at each other and all quickly fall silent as Carter approaches, looking sleek and dangerous and so fuckable Brian’s mouth waters. Carter gives them all a hard stare but his gaze lingers on Brian, who tilts his chin up. This is the game, now, for Fuentes, for whatever eyes are in the compound. 

Carter lays down the challenge, alphas the idiot stupid enough to question him, and dismisses them all, eyes once again lingering on Brian. 

“Driver’s licenses,” Fuentes calls before anyone breaks away so they all hand them over and rush back to their cars; Bilkins decided to pull Brian Spilner out of retirement for this one, but Brian Spilner is more grown up now, jaded, racing to become a drug lord’s mule. 

It’s a race Brian can’t afford to lose, so he won’t. It helps that he’s been there before, picking up something else for Carter. Of course, what doesn’t help is that Rome’s a little out of practice driving on a highway in traffic but he catches back up quickly, and then they’re just playing with each other, showing off. It’s been seven years – they’re not who they were, except in the ways that matter. 

It’s _fun_ , just like the old days, like no time has passed at all. 

But time has passed, and Brian’s got more to lose now than he ever has before. 

Brian drives through the gate, heading straight for where he knows Carter left the car. Rome stalks right up to it and punches out the window, which Carter will complain about later. Brian digs in the glove box but nothing’s there so Rome says, “The center, look in the center,” and there it is, a manila envelope that probably has one of the cigars Carter likes because he thinks it’s funny to have a death race for it. 

Just as they’re getting back in the cars, the rest of the drivers show up. Brian can’t help taunting them when he hears another engine, and then sirens. Markham gets out of the car, Rome starts shooting, everything’s just fucking swell, and Brian chants, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” as they break the speed limit all the way back to Carter. 

He’s waiting when they pull up the mile-long drive, unimpressed expression on his face. Brian walks to him, holding out the package, and Carter takes it, letting his fingers brush along Brian’s. His expression never changes until Rome pops up with, “Hey, man, got somethin’ to eat up in there? We hungry.” 

Thankfully, it’s honest amusement on Carter’s face and he meets Brian’s eyes as he turns away to tell Fuentes, “Sit ‘em by the pool.” 

…

Rome chooses possibly the worst possible moment to begin needling Brian the way he used to. Fuentes is beautiful, that’s just fact, and Brian did check her out – he knows that he’s possessive, and Carter is _very_ possessive, so looking is fine but touching is not. And Carter knows that he looks but it’s never shoved in his face the way Rome is now, and Brian can’t explain why Rome needs to shut the fuck up about it, so he’s just stuck responding like a child. 

So Rome starts needling Monica about sleeping with the enemy, which is even _stupider_ because it could get her killed. He pinches Rome’s arm for that and thank the car gods Rome gets it, actually giving her an apologetic glance. She waves it off as Carter turns around the corner of the garden. 

Since this is Carter’s territory, Brian begins to rise in respect but Carter says, “No, it’s fine,” and sinks into the chair at the head of the table, where he opens the envelope to get his cigar. Rome is annoyed; Brian hides his smile with his hand. 

“We did all that for a damned cigar?” Rome hisses. 

“No,” Carter says with a wide, toothy smile. “You did it for a job.” He proceeds to play the criminal mastermind part to the hilt, all James Bond supervillain, taking them on a walk through the ground to relay the job details. Brian doesn’t even realize he’s walking evenly with Carter till halfway through. 

Rome begins to needle _Carter_ and even distracts him with a touch on the shoulder while pickpocketing him, which. Fuck. Rome _does_ need a damn alpha to keep him in line before he gets himself killed. 

Carter just smirks slightly, again glancing at Brian, before inviting them both to the Pearl. Brian accepts and holds out his hand, wishing he could use it to pull Carter in but all he does is shake firmly and let go. 

When Carter calls, “Hey, you!” Brian grins bright and wide, because that’s still amusement, thank Jesse’s car gods. “I’ll take my cutter back.” 

Brian wipes his expression clean, pasting on annoyance, anger, a slight hint of fear, and he berates Rome all the way back to the cars. 

…

Brian leads him to Tej’s garage, where he they drop off the cars for Jimmy to go over. He introduces Rome to Suki’s pack and Suki accepts him into her territory with nod and “What’s yours is ours, Brian.” There’s something serious in her gaze as she stares up at him. 

He smiles slightly and snags Rome by the sleeve, murmuring, “We gotta talk, cuz.” Rome quits flirting with one of Suki’s girls and follows him over to the boat, where they both carefully search for any bugs but Bilkins’ trust is stretching pretty far, which is _so_ fucking stupid. 

“Talk, Brian,” Rome orders, flopping down on the bed, hands behind his head. Like he’s king of the mountain. 

Like Brian’s territory is equally his. 

“In a sec,” Brian says, retrieving the emergency cell from the bathroom. There are no texts waiting, no voicemails, no missed calls. He texts _swhere u can talk_ and sits on the edge of the bed, nudging Rome’s feet out of the way. “So, I was undercover,” he begins, “until I let the mark go and fled LA before the warrant for my arrest was even dry.” He glances up at Rome and then away. “Finally rolled into Miami a little over a year ago, hung out. I’m allied with Suki’s pack but not in it.” 

“And where does Verone fit into this?” Rome asks. 

“Uh, yeah.” Brian chews at his lip, begins kneading his comforter. “We’re together. Not mated, not yet, but maybe someday.” 

Rome’s sigh is so heavy it shakes the bed. “Brian. I was wrong, I’ll admit it.” Brian looks up to see Rome’s most unimpressed face, the one he inherited from Aunt Constance and that they both received a _lot_ as cubs. “You ain’t gonna get in trouble ‘cause of a _fe_ male.” 

“Rome,” Brian tries, but Rome’s on a roll, seven years’ worth of nagging and complaining letting loose, so Brian just lets him talk until the words run out. 

He fiddles with the phone till Rome falls silent and looks up to meet Rome’s concerned gaze. “How dangerous is this game?” 

“Very,” Brian answers. “We got the Feds on one side, who’ll try to cage us if we run or fail, but also clear our records if we win. We got a real bad cat on the other side, who _would_ kill us if he knew were workin’ for the Feds.” He grins, with all his teeth. “O’course, that’s where the fun comes in.” 

“’cause you’re actually undercover for the bad guy, not the Feds,” Rome finishes. “Damn, Brian. You sure know how to pick ’em.” 

The phone rings. Brian puts it on speaker even though Rome would hear just fine anyway. “Hey, babe,” he says. “I got Rome here. No bugs that we could find.” 

“ _Babe_ ,” Carter purrs, the faintest hint of a roar in his tone, “mind tellin’ me what’s goin’ on?” 

“Yeah, it got complicated,” Brian admits. “So, your undercover’s been scoutin’ me, gave my car to the eyes on you, and I got caught. They want me to drive for you, connect you to your money.” 

Carter laughs, short and sharp. “Yeah, that’s how I felt when I realized they’d even brought in Bilkins,” Brian says. “So, I agreed to work for ‘em if they brought Rome in, would make him free and clear, too.” 

“Hey, boss,” Rome says and Carter laughs again. “So, you’re bein’ good to my boy, yeah?” Brian shoots him a glare but Rome just smiles, bright and wide. 

“Better watch your mouth, canine,” Carter warns, and this time the roar isn’t just a hint. “Brian may keep you alive but pain’s pain.” 

Brian rolls his eyes, so Rome relaxes slightly. “Carter,” he says. “We need to do somethin’ to get them off your back. Is there anyone we can pin this on?” 

“Maybe.” Carter sighs. “I didn’t want you around the dirty money, babe, wanted you clean of all that. Can you run tomorrow night?” 

“Probably, yeah,” Brian says. “Can I bring Rome?” 

“I suppose, if you must,” Carter mutters. 

Brian purrs a little. “We’ll see you at Pearl, Carter,” he says, Rome fake-gagging slightly, and hangs up. 

“You are _so_ fuckin’ stupid,” Rome bites out. “Goddamned, Brian, it’s a damned good thing you brought me in, you need someone to watch your stupid ass.” 

Brian laughs, pouncing on him and they wrestle until Brian kicks him off the bed, saying, “We should check in with Bilkins.” 

Rome waits until Brian is standing to grab his shoulder, leaning in close to rest their foreheads together, bringing his other hand to gently grip the back of Brian’s neck. “I’m wit’ you, Brian,” he murmurs, those dark eyes sure and steady. “Against the pigs, against the cat if we need to be. Me and you, brother. Pack.” 

“Pack,” Brian agrees just as softly, bringing his own hands up to clutch Rome. 

Because Rome is Rome, he has to ruin the moment by backing up and saying, “Not that I’m not still pissed at you, bruh, because I am, I guarantee.” 

“Yeah, I know you are,” Brian mutters. “C’mon, Markham’s probably frothin’ at the mouth.” 

…

Markham is more than frothing at the mouth – he’s so enraged he points a gun at Brian’s packbrother. 

Brian attacks without hesitation, staying human except for the claws that dig into Markham’s throat. “Back down, agent,” he calls to Dunn, trying to wrestle Rome down, eyes on Bilkins, whose hands are in plain sight, no gun to be found. The rest of Markham’s goons have their weapons out but they won’t be fast enough to shoot before Markham loses his head. 

“Stand down, all of you,” Bilkins shouts as Dunn backs away from Rome. “O’Connor, let him go. Let’s talk this out.” 

Markham is trembling in Brian’s grasp. “Don’t you threaten Rome again,” he whispers before letting go and stalking across the room to stand beside Rome. “Now, what the fuck happened at the shipyard, Bilkins? Y’all almost broke our cover.” 

Bilkins shrugs. “Agent Markham seemed to think you were running.” 

Rome barks out a laugh. “If we wanted to run, we wouldn’t do it in lojacked cars, fool.” 

“You fired at federal agents!” Dunn pipes up since Markham still hasn’t recovered, eyes on Brian. The man’s probably too proud to be cowed for long but Brian plans on enjoying the silence. 

“If Rome wanted to shoot you,” Brian declares, pulling out his own gun to set on the table, “you’d be shot. Now, don’t fuck us over again, alright?” 

“We’ll do our best, O’Connor,” Bilkins says, trying for soothing but it doesn’t sound right, not like Tanner. “Now, why don’t you tell us what Verone wants.” 

So Brian lays most of it out, what Fuentes could tell herself, and then Rome does what he does best: stirs shit up. “There’s just one problem,” he says. “Fuentes – Verone’s tapping her.” 

An out-and-out lie, but a good one, delivered perfectly. Brian himself couldn’t have done better and he’s always been a better liar than Rome. 

Markham flatly denies it, which gets Rome’s dander up, and then Markham decides he’s not cowed anymore raising his eyebrows at Brian to ask, “What do you think, O’Connor? You think she’s compromised? You should know.” 

Quick and sharp, Rome demands, “What’s that supposed to mean?” taking it as an attack on the pack. 

Markham, only human, thinks it means Brian’s been keeping secrets from his pack, and he smells _smug_ as he says, “What? You mean your old pal O’Connor didn’t tell ya?” He looks at Rome while Brian clenches his fists, continuing, “He flipped on Bilkins in LA, gave his mark his car keys, and let him disappear. _That’s_ why he’s not a cop anymore.” 

Rome is fuming; Brian can hear him grinding his teeth, pressing his feet into the floor. He wants to pounce, wants to go on the offensive, but he’s backing Brian’s play here. 

And Markham just keeps talking. “So, what do you think, expert?” 

Brian stares at him. Markham flinches, just a little, so Brian lets his lips twist a tiny bit. It’s not really a smile. “Man, I don’t know,” he mutters. A lie, of course. Fuentes hasn’t flipped and she’s not sleeping with Carter. But dissension in the ranks can only be a good thing, to win this game. 

…

After leaving the Feds, they had back to Brian’s boat. The lack of sleep is catching up with them both, so they shift and curl up together on Brian’s bed, like when they were young. They wake up just after sunset and Rome takes a shower while Brian tries to decide if the leftovers he has are worth eating. They aren’t, so while he heads for his own shower, he tells Rome, “We’ll stop by Tej’s for food.” 

“Cool,” Rome mutters, as he starts digging around in Brian’s things. 

Brian huffs a little, but they’re pack – what’s his is Rome’s and vice versa. He takes a quick shower and then drags Rome off the boat. Tej, Suki, and Jimmy are at the garage with pizza boxes stacked high on the counter, which Rome pounces on immediately. 

“How’re the cars?” Brian asks Jimmy, snagging two pieces of pizza before Rome claims them all. 

“Wired like nothin’ I never seen before,” Jimmy says. 

“Figured,” Brian scoffs. “Can you deal with it?” 

“No, sorry.” Jimmy shakes his head. “’s’wired into all the systems. I’ll do what I can.” 

“Now that is damned sacrilege, is what that is,” Rome announces, slouching into one of the chairs. “I wanna punch them in their faces.” 

“Yeah, me, too,” Brian agrees, settling against the counter and inhaling the first slice of pizza. “Tej, we’re gonna need a couple more cars. Can you arrange it?” 

Tej grins up at him. “Tell me what you got in mind.”

…

They need fast cars that can take a beating. Tej arranges it with the only other two guys who made it to the shipyard, the cat and fox. 

“We can’t beat ‘em straight up,” Brian cautions, “so we gotta improvise.” 

“We got this,” Rome assures him, and it’s on.

It’s closer than it should be; Rome loses to the fox, which means Brian’s got to make up a length to even catch the cat – so he intimidates him into driving off road, throws him off stride. He and Rome used to play chicken with the bullies back home, and it’s been a very long time since he blinked first. 

He crosses the finish line just ahead of the cat and Rome cackles. They leave the fox and cat with their girlfriends (both human) and drive back to Tej’s garage, where Jimmy, Suki, and Tej will look over the new cars while Brian and Rome hurry to Pearl. 

…

Not long after Fuentes joined Carter’s operation, bugs had been planted in strategic locations throughout the Pearl. Nothing in the back or the private rooms, because there wasn’t enough noise to hide them there, but all the public areas were wired. 

Carter and Brian hadn’t danced together at the Pearl since the night they met, though Brian had still frequented it with Suki since it was _the_ club for shifters in Miami. 

“Well, this ain’t half-bad,” Rome drawls, following Brian in.

“Yeah, it’s got some perks,” Brian agrees, catching Fuentes’ nod and nodding back. “C’mon, she’s waiting.” Brian shakes his head as Rome tilts his own back, taking a deep breath. 

“All these scents, man – who knew there were so many kinds?” Rome actually sounds a little amazed, a little forlorn. 

It hits Brian, deep in the heart, to hear Rome sound like that, so he spins around, bringing his hand up to tightly grip the back of Rome’s neck, leaning in to purr a little. “There’s more to the world than Barstow, brother,” he says, “and more than a cage. You’re out now, you’re with me, and you’re never goin’ back, y’hear?” 

“I hear,” Rome says. He inhales again, eyes lighting up. “I gotta explore.” 

Brian steps back, releasing him. “I’ll come find you when Verone shows up. Have fun. Be good.” 

Rome’s laugh is loud and it attracts attention, and Brian has to smile as he watches a couple of avians approach Rome – he’s not sure what they are, but their human-skins are identical, tiny and dark, and Rome lets each one take a hand and pull him onto the dance floor. 

Fuentes steps up next to him. “Nicely done,” she says. “I wasn’t expecting you to be an alpha, despite that show at the race.” 

“I’m not an alpha,” Brian says. “I just step up when I need to.” 

There’s something sad in her smile, bitter in her scent. “That makes you the best kind of alpha, Brian.” 

She’s been under for almost a year, trying to find evidence to lock Carter away in a cage for the rest of his life, and Brian hadn’t wanted her dead for it – but this is the first time he actually thinks, _I hope you survive_. 

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Thanks,” he says. “So, how long till Verone shows up?” 

Fuentes shrugs, heading over to one of the silly looking chairs Suki likes to perch on. “Not long,” she says, gesturing to the chair next to hers. “Want a drink?” 

“No, thanks.” Brian sits, angling himself so that Rome is still in his periphery. Rome is clearly having a good time with the avian twins, and Brian picks out three different canines eying him. Good. Rome could use some fun. 

“You say you’re not an alpha but you’re treating him like you are,” Fuentes muses, her fingers fiddling with one of her dangly bracelets. 

“I owe him,” Brian says simply. 

She raises an eyebrow. It’s none of her business, not really, but (as far as she knows) her life is in his hands. And, actually, her continued survival for the past near-year _is_ because Brian had asked Carter to let the attempted undercovers live. Shit. So he tells her an abbreviated, simplistic version of what went down, catching Carter’s scent as the tale nears its end. Rome glances over from his dance (now with one of the canines and one of the avian twins), so Brian nods and Rome begins untangling himself from the women. 

“Carter’s here,” Brian tells Fuentes and she nods, pinpointing him almost as quickly as Brian does. 

“Best not to keep him waiting,” she says, leading the way as Rome falls in behind Brian. 

Carter watches them approach, smirking with a hint of fang, and Brian pastes on his unimpressed-and-hiding-apprehension face. “Spilner,” he says. “Pearce.” 

“Boss,” Rome says, throwing himself down onto one of the ridiculous chairs. “Nice place you got here.” 

“Mr. Verone,” Brian murmurs, settling onto the chair next to Rome’s. 

“Well,” Carter says, sinking smoothly into his chair like a king, “let’s talk business.” 

…

“So, you’re going to need a window free and clear,” Carter says, sipping his champagne and watching the pretty canine lead Detective Whitworth to the private backroom Carter led them to. “I suppose I should see to that for you.” He grins at Brian before directing his gaze to Fuentes. 

Brian knows that she’s climbed her way up the organization; she’s only been at her rank for a few months. Only Carter’s most trusted have seen what he does when he isn’t pleased. The lessers are just disappeared. 

Carter has kept most of that away from Brian, but there was that one time – yeah. He knows what’s coming. 

Fuentes is uncomfortable and trying to hide it; there’s a whine building in Rome’s throat, and Brian’s afraid this reminds him of whatever might’ve happened in jail, the things he’ll never tell Brian about. 

“Meet Detective Whitworth,” Carter announces, “one of Miami’s finest.” The canine pulls away and saunters off as Carter asks, “You enjoyin’ yourself, Detective?” 

Whitworth is doing his best not to panic, but he’s one of Carter’s – whatever made him take the payoff the first time, Brian hopes it was worth it. He also hopes, for Rome’s sake, that Whitworth walks out of this room alive. 

Apparently, Whitworth has decided to not take Carter’s money anymore. Rome slowly edges closer to Brian as Enrique and Roberto circle around Whitworth as Carter steadily moves in. Fuentes is by the counter, still holding her champagne glass, heart thundering away. 

“On the table,” Carter orders and Whitworth struggles, but he’s a lone wolf against a crocodile and a constrictor. Rome flinches as Whitworth is slammed down so Brian reaches out to touch his hand, carefully stepping slightly in front of him. 

Brian assumes it’s for Whitworth and Rome’s (and, well, Brian Spilner’s) sake that Carter explains the rat and bucket and blowtorch. Fuentes is taking slow, steady breaths, trying to keep calm, and Rome flinches back when Carter orders, “Sit down!” 

Brian nods slightly, keeping in between Rome and the rest as they move for the chairs, and they watch in silence as Carter gives Whitworth his demands for a fifteen-minute window. 

“I can’t do it!” Whitworth groans. “I can’t, I can’t!” And then he just starts howling for help. 

Rome is _whimpering_ , low in his throat, and Carter gives them a quick glance before ordering Fuentes to come hold Whitworth’s mouth shut. His howls turn into whines and begging, the scent of blood and piss filling the air, and he finally agrees. Fuentes quickly backs away, hands rubbing at her dress. 

“You betray me,” Carter says, conversationally, “and my rat here is going to visit your wife Lynn, your son Clay, and your daughter Lexi. You hear me, wolf? You understand?” Whitworth doesn’t answer, so Carter grabs his throat and snarls, “Do you understand?!” 

“I understand, I understand!” Whitworth yelps. 

“Good boy,” Carter says, patting his cheek with a hand full of claws. “Now you can go.” He steps back, ordering Enrique and Roberto to let him up, and turns to face Brian and Rome, his smile all teeth. Brian leans forward slightly, so Carter will look at him, letting Rome get control of himself. 

“You boys enjoy the show?” Carter asks. Brian doesn’t react, but Rome slumps down a little further into the seat. “Fifteen minutes,” Carter says, “and then every cop in Florida’s gonna be on you.” His gaze stays on Brian. “Be at Versailles Café 6 am, day after tomorrow, ready to drive.” He pauses, gaze flicking to Rome and then back to Brian. “You understand?” 

“Yeah,” Brian says. 

Carter nods and the next part is purely for Fuentes as Carter bites out, “Don’t play games with me or you’ll be next. Alright?” He doesn’t wait for Brian to respond just orders Fuentes and the boys out, and doesn’t look back. 

Brian lets out a deep sigh, waiting. Rome holds it together until neither of them can hear Carter and then he falls apart, unable to even string a coherent sentence together. 

“Hey,” Brian calls, “Rome, hey, man, it’s alright. C’mon, man, you didn’t back down in prison, remember, you gonna back down now?” 

Rome actually snarls at him but his heartbeat slows. “Yeah, there you are. You good?” He reaches out slowly, clasping the back of Rome’s neck, and Rome falls across him, shifting.

There are things he knows Rome will never tell him, and things he’ll never ask. Three years is a long time. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, rubbing at Rome’s ears, stroking along his spine. “It’s the game we’re playing. But I’m sorry.” He sits there, Rome curled up on him, until Rome stops trembling and shifts back. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Rome says. “Back to your den.” 

“Alright, yeah,” Brian agrees. “C’mon.” 

…

Tej and Suki’s pack are all hanging out at the garage but they keep their distance because Rome looks calm on the surface and Brian – well, Brian may accidentally glare at everyone to stay the fuck back. 

Once they’re on the boat, before Rome shifts into his other half, Brian says, “I understand if you don’t want to come runnin’ tomorrow night, man.” 

Rome takes a deep breath, exhales, inhales. “I have to,” he says, body loosening. “Because I’ve only seen your boy when he’s puttin’ on a show, and the show? I don’t like it. But out running, that’s just him, right?” He tilts his head, eyebrow raised. Brian nods. “There you have it, brother. I’ll see who he is when he’s out runnin’ with you.” 

“Alright.” Brian smiles, stretching, and says, “Thanks, Rome,” as Rome shifts and hops onto the bed. Rome yips at him so Brian laughs and shifts to join him. 

…

In the morning, Rome takes a long shower and uses up all the hot water. Brian doesn’t complain. He shows Rome around the garage, checks in on all four cars, reassures Suki that everything’s fine, and then calls for a pack (and pack-adjacent) meeting. 

“Okay, so,” he says, “I’ve gone undercover for the Feds but I’m actually undercover for someone else _inside_ the Feds, and I’m trying to figure out a way to ruin their case without costing me and Rome our freedom. Ideas?” 

“What the hell, Brian?” Tej demands but Suki just sits up straighter in her chair. 

“Does this involve the cat you’ve been seeing?” she asks calmly. 

“Yeah, it does.” Brian shrugs. “You heard of Carter Verone?” 

“Are you serious?!” Jimmy shouts. 

“Well, fuck,” Tej mutters. “What’ve the Feds got you’ve doin’?” 

Brian starts to explain but Rome interrupts with, “I just had an idea so crazy it’s gotta be brilliant.” Brian waits as they all look at him, and Rome’s smile slowly grows. “I _know_ it’s brilliant,” he says. “So, look, they don’t know we got other cars, right? So why don’t we play pick-up sticks with cars.” 

Brian catches on immediately. “Rome, that is fuckin’ brilliant.” Something else occurs to him, too, and he pulls out his emergency phone to text _how soon can we talk_. 

Carter replies immediately, _now_ so Brian calls him. “Babe, I have five minutes before the bird arrives,” Carter says. 

“A’ight, I won’t need longer,” Brian says. “Look, I got some friends I trust here and we’ve got a couple ideas for how to fix things. What’s the plan tomorrow?” 

Carter sighs. “I’ve told the bird we’re going to an airstrip off Nallwood Avenue in the Keys, but we’re actually taking the yacht out. I’m wrapping everything up, Brian, and we’re moving on. You with me?” 

Brian looks at Rome and Rome bites at his lip. After a long moment of silence, Rome nods slowly. “I’m with you, Carter, if Rome is welcome.” 

“Of course,” Carter says, as though that was never in question. 

“Okay, so that actually plays in perfectly with what I’m thinking,” Brian says. “I’m gonna tell the Feds that you’re threatening to kill us, and that Fuentes told us about the airstrip. When we get the cash, we’ll trade in cars and then Tej’ll have every racer he can get ahold of drive out. We’ll meet you at the yacht with the money and get the hell out.” 

“I like it,” Suki says. “Of course, once you’re gone, we might get in trouble.” She taps her fingers on the table. “I’d prefer my girls not be involved,” she decides. “I’ll drive one of the decoy cars, of course.” 

“That’s fine with me,” Brian says. “Carter, Tej?” 

“I’ll start calling around in a few,” Tej agrees and Jimmy nods. 

“Perfect,” Carter purrs. “We still runnin’ tonight, babe?” 

Brian glances at Rome, who shrugs. “Yeah,” Brian says. “We’ll be there.” 

“See you soon,” Carter says, and then, “Thank you, Mr. Parker, Mr. Lee, Alpha Ikeda.” 

“You take good care of our boys here and we’ll call it square,” Tej says and Carter hangs up. Tej shakes his head. “Well, that sure was somethin’. Let’s get to work.” 

…

Brian calls up Bilkins for a meet because he’s got important intel and Bilkins says, “Alright, give us an hour, O’Connor.” 

He and Rome just hang out at the boat, talking about the good old days. Brian tells him some of the places he and Carter have gone, and they plan for the future – “You’ll like Carter’s ma,” Brian tells him. “She’s a kickass old lady like yours.” 

“Don’t you be callin’ my mama old, O’Connor,” Rome says and they both laugh. 

If they pull this off – 

Well. They _have_ to pull this off. Brian won’t accept anything else. 

…

He tells Bilkins that Carter wants the money delivered to an airstrip in the Keys, that Carter’ll have them killed after. There’ll be a fifteen-minute window without any cops. 

“How do you know?” Bilkins asks. 

Rome answers, “Monica. She’s doin’ her job; she warned us.” 

Bilkins tries to call the op off but before Brian can begin scrambling for a reason to complete it, Markham interrupts to say, “This is a Customs case, Bilkins – no one’s callin’ this off unless _I_ do.” 

Markham gives them radios, says they’ll be wired with GPS, and generally, acts very cavalier with their lives. If it wasn’t so convenient, Brian would be pissed. 

As they go to leave, Bilkins looks like he wants to say something but Brian gives him a chance and Bilkins just turns away.

“s’a good thing you’re with the cat, ain’t it?” Rome murmurs as they stalk away. 

“Sure seems to be,” Brian agrees.

…

“We found the place,” Tej says, and Brian and Rome spend the rest of the day helping prep the cars. At five, Brian tells Rome, “If there’s anythin’ you gotta do to get ready for tonight, go do it.” 

“A’ight,” Rome says, and heads off to the boat. 

…

For old time’s sake, Brian boosts a car and they ride out of Miami, singing made up lyrics for the songs on the radio. They dump the car miles from Brian’s spot and shift, taking off into the sinking sun. 

Carter’s waiting for them, leaning against a tree, looking cool and collected. “You’re late,” he says as they shift back. 

“By my clock,” Rome says, “we’re right on time.” He’s trying for cocky and almost makes it. 

“I suppose there are some things that need to be said, Mr. Pearce.” Carter stands up straight, hands at his sides, head tilted so that his throat is bared. “You are Brian’s pack. So am I. That makes you _my_ pack. I will run with you tonight, and invite you into my territory tomorrow, and while I hope we can become friends of a sort, I will tolerate you if that is all I can do.” 

Rome narrows his eyes, rocks back and forth on his feet, and then nods decisively. “Brian is my pack,” he says. “So are you, Mr. Verone. So while I hope we can become brothers, like me and Bri, I’ll tolerate you, too.” 

Brian whoops in relief, slaps Rome on the shoulder, leaps up, shifts, and vanishes into the trees. Rome’s shout of, “You fucker!” follows him and he hears Carter’s laugh. 

They spend half the night running together, and then make their separate ways back into Miami. Brian and Rome collapse together on Brian’s bed in the boat and he wishes Carter were there, but freedom is literally just hours away. 

“This is crazy, brah,” Rome mumbles into Brian’s neck. 

“That’s why it’ll work,” Brian mumbles back. “Now sleep. We gotta be at the top of our game tomorrow.” 

…

They set out for the café at a quarter ‘til. “Keep your eyes on the prize,” Brian says as they wait in their lojacked cars. Enrique and Roberto pull up long enough to catch their attention and then drive away, so Brian follows, then Rome. They retrieve the money from a trailer and start loading it up. 

When the sirens sound, Brian thinks, _Oh, no_ , but it might be nothing – until they start getting closer, and then there’s a helicopter. _Fuck, fuck,_ he thinks, and snarls at Enrique and Robert, “Get to Carter.” 

“Si,” Enrique mutters, “We’ll delay them first.” 

“Go, go!” Brian shouts at Rome, waiting until Rome’s buckled in his car to gun it. 

Everything’s going according to plan until the helicopter has the same fucking rockets Markham used. He shouts at Rome, “Don’t get hit!” and uses the traffic as cover, fervently praying Rome can, too, and then they’re out from under the chopper and the cops don’t have any more of those rockets, so he shouts, “Fuck yeah!” and continues on. 

“Time for the show,” he crows as he and Rome pull into the garage. 

“Come on, come on,” Rome chants as they transfer the money and Brian calls to Tej, “Everyone ready?” 

“Let’s do this thing!” Suki shouts. “Go, go, go!” 

“See you on the other side, brother!” Brian tells Rome, and Rome nods. 

One last run and they’re free and clear. 

…

Brian wishes he could enjoy the scramble as dozen of cars lead the cops and Feds on a merry chase, but he and Rome sneak out and obey most traffic laws on the way. It’s a sedate little drive while Brian’s heart keeps trying to leap out of his chest, but he finally reaches a state of calm certainty. 

He pulls up at Tarpon Point, Rome just a step behind, and Carter’s pack are almost done loading, and Carter’s there, leaning against his SUV. “Let’s get going,” he calls. 

“You know,” Rome says as they walk over, “I didn’t tell my mama goodbye. She’s gonna be pissed the next time I call.” 

Brian laughs, gently shoving him, and then Roberto’s there, asking, “Is there anything else?” as he takes their duffle bags. 

“No,” Brian answers, leaning in to scent Carter. “It’s all here.” 

…

It’s not until they’re on the plane that Rome asks, “What happened to Fuentes?” Brian’s been wondering, too, but didn’t want to know for sure. 

“She’s alive,” Carter says, looking up from his notebook. “In one piece, even.” 

“Good,” Rome mutters. “Wake me up when we land, cuz.” He stretches and shifts, curling up on his seat. 

“He’s quite a character,” Carter says. 

“So’re you,” Brian chuckles, looking out the window at the ocean. 

A pack that’s all his. He spent years telling himself he didn’t want or need one, but now he has one. He looks at Rome, looks at Carter, and thinks, _What kind of alpha are you, Brian O’Connor?_

He grew up with Aunt Constance, spent a couple months watching Dom, there were a few small packs in the LAPD, the gang leaders – 

He isn’t an alpha though, and they’ve got time to figure it out.


	3. Interlude 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian's mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: Brian and Rome aren’t mine; title from Evanescence  
> Warnings: prejudice, depression, neglect of a child, mostly pre-canon  
> Pairings: Brian’s parents, Brian’s grandparents  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 950  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: any, any, _Leaving gets easier with practice_.

Anna O’Connor grew up the only daughter and favorite child of Patrick and Evelyn O’Connor. Her parents weren’t prejudiced, exactly, except for a few pointed comments every now and then – but they never associated with shifters. All five of them, Anna and Mom and Daddy and Sean and Andrew, attended church every Sunday, and Jesus wasn’t a shifter. Does anything else need to be said? 

.

Anna met Will at a bowling alley. She was out with friends from school, her best friend Monica and a few others whose names she’d forget as the years passed. She always remembered Monica, though, because – well, that came later. 

Will. Even when she’s old and her memory’s long since faded, she’ll remember exactly how blue his eyes were, his golden skin, the yellow curls she loved running her fingers through. He was tall and broad, laughing with his own friends three lanes down, and he glanced over, and then he didn’t look away. 

She was eighteen, about to graduate. Her whole life was ahead of her. 

.

When she realized she was pregnant, she cried for three hours. She told Monica first. Then Will. 

Daddy didn’t speak to her for months. Sean and Andrew tried beating Will up but instead he put them both down. Mom cried but promised Anna it didn’t mean her life was over. 

Anna and Will never married, despite Daddy’s threats. But three months before Brian James O’Connor came screaming into the world, Will bought a house for them to live in, away from Anna’s parents. He was gone for days at a time, but whenever he came back, he’d hold Brian and murmur to him, and their son would quiet down, go right to sleep. He always cried whenever Anna tried. He was such a fussy baby. 

And then, when Brian wasn’t even a year old, Will didn’t come back. 

Two weeks of solid screaming later, temper tantrums that had Anna crying, calling Mom and Monica in panic, and Brian – 

Anna thought she’d lost her mind, at first, when she watched Brian become a [baby mountain lion](http://gallery.photo.net/photo/16546513-md.jpg). She left the room, splashed water on her face, and then peeked back in the door. But he was still a cub instead of a baby, and she went to the kitchen, dialed her parents’ house, and sank down against the wall, clutching the phone. 

.

Her parents slowly pulled away after that. Her brothers never visited. Monica was the only reason Brian got fed every night until he was three years old, when Anna decided that shifter or not, he _was_ her son. She researched mountain lions and tried, she really did. And for four years, everything wasn’t fine, not really, but it was bearable. 

And then Brian met Roman Pearce at school. Another shifter. Suddenly there were fights in the schoolyard, teachers calling her nearly every week, and Anna got laid off work, and Brian just… 

She looked up one day and she was looking at Will, and then a policeman was at the door saying that Brian had been arrested. She bailed him out that time, but he still had to spend months in a juvenile detention center for _stealing cars_. Her son was a criminal. 

But maybe the shock of it would fix him. He could be so sweet, sometimes. She’d call Monica, in New York teaching art and having shows that Anna would love to see, and have long rambling conversations about what could’ve been, and might still be, if only Brian could just lock the animal inside him and be a normal boy. 

The first time, Brian seemed to be better after he got out. He stopped hanging out with the thug, and he did his make-up work for school, and he came home at reasonable times, and they’d watch TV together. He’d tell her about his day. 

He looked so much like his father that sometimes Anna couldn’t look at him. But they were doing better. 

For almost six months, everything was perfect. 

It turned out, though, that Brian was just a terrifyingly good liar. He hadn’t been going to school – he’d been running around and wreaking havoc with that thug friend of his ( _packbrother_ , Brian called him) and he was arrested again, sent back to the juvenile detention center, and Anna… 

She knew the day of his release, but she didn’t go pick him up. She’d told him the day he was sentenced to not come back to her house. The thug’s mother stopped by for Brian’s belongings and stared at Anna with cold eyes and said, “I understand, Mrs. O’Connor,” but Anna knew she didn’t like or agree with it. 

Anna’s life stalled for eighteen years, but maybe she could start over. 

.

The day Brian moved into the thug’s house, Anna called her mother. Later that week, she had dinner at her parents’ house. She had lunch with each of her brothers, who talked about their wives and children. 

Anna took down all the pictures but one, and she’d look at it sometimes, and daydream about what could’ve been, if only Will had been a better man (a _human_ ), if Brian didn’t have a beast inside. 

.

(She received little notes in the mail, signed _Constance Pearce_. Brian earned his GED. He went to the police academy. The last note explained that Brian and Roman had a falling out, so Brian was moving to Los Angeles. 

Sometimes, Anna would think she saw Will on the street, but it was always Brian. She’d turn away from his hesitant smile. Eventually, he stopped smiling, and then he was gone.) 

.

When she is forty-one, Anna turns on the news and sees Will’s face – but it’s not Will. It’s Brian, and he’s wanted for arrest, and she turns the TV off before hearing anymore. 

She cries herself to sleep that night.


	4. Interlude 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carter's mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: Brian, Rome, and Carter aren’t mine; title from Evanescence  
> Warnings: violence, death, implied torture   
> Pairings: Carter’s parents, Carter’s grandparents, Brian/Carter  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 830  
> Point of view: third 
> 
> Note: this was originally an info dump at the beginning of chap3; you can thank 5012allinarow that it no longer is

When Carter first calls about Brian O’Connor, Valentina can hear it in his voice – she had once spoken of Jonathan like that, had laughed with her cousins and packsisters, had daydreamed and hoped. 

Valentina had been twenty-three, already turning down suitors who wanted her only for Papa’s power, ignoring her brothers’ growls that she choose, when she saw the tall American brashly challenging a fisherman’s price for his catch. She’d laughed at what the fisherman replied in Spanish, too quickly for the handsome American to understand. 

“Are you lost?” she asked in English, subtly waving away the bodyguards Papa insisted on. 

“No,” he answered shortly, turning to look at her and then he blinked. “Hello,” he said, in a much warmer tone, holding out a hand. “I’m Jonathan Verone.” 

“Valentina Herrera,” she replied. When she took his hand, he brought her knuckles to his mouth and kissed them. 

“Also, Miss Herrera,” he said as her hand dropped, “I think I might be lost.” He grinned at her, white teeth flashing, and she had to wave away the bodyguards again. 

“I shall guide you, senor,” she said, linking her arm with his. 

Jonathan had been in Buenos Aires for his father’s oil business, but he never left. Even as his father sent ever-angrier messages, Jonathan kept putting him off. He asked Valentina if she’d return to Texas with him, but Valentina could not – of Papa’s four children, Valentina was the only one with the temperament to be alpha, that Papa would trust. Only Alejandro had openly defied Papa declaring her heir, and when he demanded the old ritual of pack dominance, his arrogance cost him the fight. She let him live because of their shared blood, but Alejandro knew there was a mark against him, doubt in everyone’s heart. 

“This proves I was right about you,” Papa had said, hand resting gently on the back of her neck. “He will work twice as hard to prove himself loyal and he will be carefully watched. Well done, heir.” 

Jonathan moved into the villa with Valentina and her parents (though on the other side) two weeks before their wedding. Mama adored him, Valentina’s brothers thought he should be a shifter, and Papa warned him that the entire city would watch him. But Jonathan, he just smiled (without teeth, because Valentina had explained some things) and said he’d cherish Valentina, would never intentionally hurt her. 

Carter tells her that Brian is sarcastic, is beautiful, is so much better than Carter deserves. When he brings Brian home, Valentina sees that Brian feels the same about Carter. Listening to Brian drawl – it is different than Jonathan’s, but still so similar. 

She and Jonathan had three wonderful years. He would never be considered a co-alpha, but being the alpha’s mate would earn him respect. Mama gave him lessons while Valentina shadowed Papa in his business dealings up until her eighth month of pregnancy, when it became too dangerous. 

Jonathan named their son Carter; Valentina added Joaquin for Papa. He shifted for the first time at six months and the entire villa celebrated.

Valentina has missed Jonathan every day since he died. She knows that Papa blamed himself until his own death nearly seventeen years later, but it was not Papa’s fault. He had asked Valentina to attend a meeting in his stead because she would be out that day anyway. Jonathan went with her as a show of faith in the alpha asking for the alliance. 

She had known something was wrong almost immediately, but she carried on with the meeting. She heard the gunmen mere moments before they fired – her reflexes saved her, barely, but not Jonathan.

She watches Carter watch Brian, hears their laughter; their scents mingle more by the day, and she misses Jonathan so much she physically aches with it. 

It took her months to heal, secure in the villa, the pack on high alert. Papa’s retaliation was swift and it was brutal. Years later, shifters and humans both still whisper about it in fear and awe. 

Of course, when Valentina had finally healed, Papa gifted her with the man responsible for the assassination attempt. Valentina took her time, in both skins. Much of the man was never found, but what was – there is a reason that no one has attempted another assassination on the Herrera pack. 

When she tells Brian that story, body still and solemn, he nods gravely. He understands. 

“You are good for my son, Brian O’Connor,” Valentina says, hand gentle on the back of Brian’s neck. She is not his alpha, but neither is Carter. His packbrother Rome follows Brian over her, even in the heart of her territory. She kisses Brian’s forehead and goes for a walk in the gardens, remembering Jonathan’s laughter, his scent, his touch. It has been nearly forty years. She is growing old, slowing down. Soon, she will formally declare her heir. 

Brian will be furious, but Carter – Carter, she knows, will be content.


	5. Interlude 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Rome tries, he can pinpoint the moment Brian decided to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Evanescence  
> Warnings: language, takes place pre, during, and post the first film   
> Pairings: none   
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 420  
> Point of view: third   
> Prompt: any. any. leave me alone (but don’t ever go)

If Rome tries, he can pinpoint the moment Brian decided to leave. Brian had just turned nineteen, five months after Rome, and he looked around the desert they were joyriding through in a boosted car, and he asked, “What are we doin’ here, Rome?” 

All told, they spent two years in juvie. Rome came out with an even stronger hatred of cops but Brian – he got quiet, in the cage. Thought a lot. Got all philosophical and shit. 

“We expressin’ our disdain for the authorities,” Rome answered, hitting the gas. 

Looking back three years later, after the cops raided his garage, after he got sent to a bigger, meaner cage, Rome would think, _That’s when I lost ‘im._

.

The first and only time Rome talked to Brian before he got out, Rome didn’t believe that Brian didn’t know. Mama said she’d told Brian to leave, and Rome winced at the thought. But he needed his anger to survive, he’ll realize when he’s free. Needed someone to blame. Someone to hate. 

And Brian, on the outside, working for the cops, _as_ a cop – if Rome hadn’t hated him for a betrayal that never happened, he might’ve gotten lost in the cage. 

But he survived, got out, and realized he was still alive. 

.

His third week, still chained by the tracking monitor strapped to his leg, he calls Mama to ask, “Where’s Brian?” 

Mama hesitates. 

“Mama,” Rome says. 

“I don’t know, baby,” Mama finally answers. “About a month before you got out, he, well. They put his picture on the news and some agents from the FBI stopped by to talk to me.” 

“What the fuck,” Rome says, not even apologizing when Mama hisses, “Roman Pearce, don’t you use that language.” 

But seriously. Bri, _what. the. fuck._

.

Rome does a lot of thinking, in-between driving at the Barstow Speedway. His brothers, packsiblings, and cousins all stop by, and Mama and the aunties, and Rome thinks. Remembers. Tries to imagine where Brian could be now, what he’s doing. 

He’s still so angry, though. Even when he looks up at the moon and says, “If you were gonna run in the end, brother, why didn’t you run with me?” 

.

A lot of the time, he wants to punch Brian. Other times, he wants to curl up with him. They could’ve been something great, him and Brian.

But still, no matter what, he promises himself, if he ever sees Brian O’Connor again, the first thing he’s gonna do is punch him in that goddamned face of his.


	6. Interlude 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carter's pov during part2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: not my characters ; title from Evanescence  
> Warnings: violence, OC character death   
> Pairings: Brian O’Connor/Carter Verone   
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 1325  
> Point of view: third   
> Prompt: any, any, lips red with blood

The first time Carter sees the _very_ pretty feline dancing with the equally striking avian, he doesn’t think much about it. The Pearl sees its fair share of shifters; some come often, others just check it out while traveling through Miami. 

The second time, though, the feline comes alone, dances with a few strangers, and Carter can’t look away. 

Like most shifters, Carter doesn’t care about gender – but he likes exquisite, he likes power, strength of body and strength of will. He takes shifters and humans to bed equally, but usually only for the night. He’s never had a lover for more than a few months. Maybe it’s the romantic in him, wanting what his parents had – Mama never did get over Daddy dying. She told Carter, more than once, that she’d loved him from the moment they met, even if she didn’t realize it at the time. Abuelo also used to talk about Carter’s grandmother; it was a business arrangement, to help maintain Abuelo’s place of power. 

Eventually, Carter is going to go home to his mother’s villa in Buenos Aires. He’s going to inherit her empire, become alpha of her pack that stretches throughout South America, claws in every criminal enterprise. He’s gotten a taste of it in Miami, enough to whet his appetite, but unfortunately, his subordinates aren’t as loyal as Mama’s. They’re not Carter’s family. 

But that’s all in the future, to be worried about later. He’s just looking for fun when he sends the feline a drink. He grins as the feline drains the glass and returns to his dance partner, making sure to keep Carter’s gaze the whole time. 

He’s just looking for fun, but later, he’ll remember Mama’s words: _I loved your papa from that moment I met his eyes, corazon, but I didn’t realize it until the day he talked about goin’ home and I couldn’t bear the thought of him leavin’ me behind_. 

.

Carter, on the whole, doesn’t like people. They have their uses, and few are worth knowing, but mostly, they’re just means to an end. Carter trusts his mother, and his personal bodyguards, Enrique and Roberto, and the head of his security, Emma. Beyond them, though, he doesn’t trust a soul. 

He brings the feline (one of the big ones) back to his personal den, his apartment that not even his bodyguards have been to, and falls asleep with the feline stretched out beside him. He wakes the next morning with the feline’s legs tangled in his – it’s the first time in his life he’s let someone spend the night. It’s downright _bizarre_. 

Breakfast, letting the feline ( _Brian_ ) wear his clothes, planning to meet again so their other halves can run together – 

Of course, he personally researches Brian, learning about his time as a police officer, his childhood missteps. He _was_ an officer in Los Angeles, but ten months on the run… Brian’s other half is a cougar and he used to get in trouble with a coyote named Roman Pearce; Pearce got arrested and sentenced to three years, while Brian tried to stay out of trouble. On the _right_ side of the law, according to some. 

It is entirely possible that Brian’s a plant, sent in undercover. Maybe this entire history is a lie. But Carter Verone _knows_ people, for all that he doesn’t like them. Once you’ve run with someone, seen both their human face and their other half, you know a part of their soul. 

So Carter will run with Brian and then decide. 

.

Two weeks after meeting Brian, Carter calls home and tells Mama, “If I ever have to leave Miami, is my – partner, I suppose. Is he welcome, too?” 

“Of course, corazon,” Mama says. “Now, tell me about him.” 

Carter laughs. “He’s a sarcastic little shit who doesn’t know when to back down, Mama. You’ll love him.” He worries at his lip, staring out over Miami from his den, and then he says, “I fell asleep beside him. Didn’t wake ‘til morning.” 

“I’m so happy for you, Carter,” Mama says. He hears the tears building in her voice. “Take good care of him – I miss your papa every day.” 

.

Carter Verone does not rush things. He is precise. He is thorough. His redundancies have redundancies. 

At first, Brian just drives the truly sensitive materials and papers from the drop point to where they need to go. Nothing connects him to Carter except that first night at the Pearl. But then Brian spots minor problems in Carter’s security, and teaches Emma how to spot law enforcement when they’re trying to hide, and then he points out two attempts at undercover agents, and before he knows it, seven months have passed and Brian is undisputedly his second. The ones who know him in the organization obey him like they obey Carter. 

Carter has tried to keep the darker side of the business away from Brian, for Brian’s safety and his own piece of mind. Daddy died because of Abuelo’s business; Mama made Buenos Aires bleed for it. 

But then there’s the day that Brian slinks into the compound under cover of darkness and gets all the way to Carter’s room without tripping a single alarm or any guard noticing, and crouches beside Carter’s bed, and Carter wakes up to Brian’s hand over his mouth. He nearly panics until he recognizes the scent. 

“There’s a traitor,” Brian murmurs, head tilted, ears shifted. “I’ve narrowed it down to two.” 

Carter’s rage doesn’t burn hot, not like Mama’s. It’s a slow fuse. “Tell me,” he says, sitting up. Brian settles beside him and lays out everything he’s gathered. 

Finding the traitor is never in question. Punishment is. 

. 

The traitor is one of Emma’s lieutenants; he’s been slowly working his way up the ranks. He’s a wolf and he’s been trusted with a few minor tasks. He’d actually attended one business meeting with Carter as part of Carter’s security. 

Carter’s rage pales in comparison to Brian’s. “Let me have him,” Brian asks softly, watching the wolf cower from Emma, Roberto, and Enrique. “For daring to betray you, for whatever he had in the works. Please.” 

For seven months, Carter has tried to keep the violence away from Brian. But watching the way Brian looks at the traitor – 

“He’s all yours,” Carter says, signaling his pack to back away. 

. 

In later years, Carter will think back to that night as Brian’s first courting gift. 

“You can die as a wolf or as a man,” Brian told the traitor. “Either way you die.” 

The traitor chose to die as a wolf, and he fought desperately. He never had a chance. 

.

In Buenos Aires, there are legends about what Valentina Verone, the heir apparent of Joaquin Herrera, did to the man who killed her husband. 

In Miami, no one knows what happened to a wolf no one remembers anyway. But Carter’s trusted spread the word, and Carter will remember forever the way Brian turned away from the corpse, blood on his muzzle and claws, and shifted, the way he met Carter’s eyes, head held high, blood still coating his lips and chin. 

“C’mon, babe,” Carter had said, holding out a hand. “Let’s get that filth off you.” 

This moment is what Carter will remember, what he’ll think of as the moment he _knew_. 

.

The violence, the danger – Carter tries to keep Brian away from that. But he knows he doesn’t have to, that Brian will accept every part of the business. He keeps that in mind as he works on contingencies, as he turns over ideas. 

If it was just the Miami PD trying to cage him, it wouldn’t matter. But the DEA, the FBI – it might be time to move on. 

When Brian texts him from one of the emergency phones, he knows the time has come. 

He calls Mama to say, “It’s time.” 

Mama’s smile is clear in her voice as she replies, “See you soon, corazon.”


	7. Interlude 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rome's mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Evanescence  
> Warnings: takes place during the second movie  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 925  
> Point of view: third   
> Prompt: any, any, He stumbled into faith and thought/"God, this is all there is." (Blue Lips by Regina Spektor)  
> Note: for SonyBoy (on ff.net), who asked for someone from Rome’s birth pack.

It’s mid-morning when Shondra’s oldest Calvin calls Constance to ask, “Auntie, where’s Rome?” 

“He should be at that trailer of his,” Constance says, setting down her lemonade. 

“Auntie,” Calvin says, “It’s faint but – I smell Brian O’Connor. He was here.” 

“Brian O’Connor,” Constance murmurs. “And now Rome’s gone.” She sighs heavily. “Come on back to the den,” she orders. 

.

There were years before Brian O’Connor. Her other children had friends that never became pack, but from the beginning, there was something different about Rome, about he acted around Brian. 

In the beginning, she could have forbidden Rome from staying friends with the cub, and Rome’s older brothers would have enforced it at school. But Rome was so wild, always looking away from the pack, and even while Brian encouraged him, he also made sure Rome was safe, whatever they did. And while she loved Rome, she had other things to worry about. 

So she let it go, and she let it go, and when Brian and Rome were twelve, the first time a policeman (a wolf in her _territory_ , his scent on her _son_ ) drove them home, she sat them both down on the couch and stared, letting her disappointment and her embarrassment show. 

She was not Brian’s alpha, then. And even then, she knew she never would be. Perhaps, because he’s a cat, he doesn’t need or want one, she still doesn’t know. But until that day at school, when a little boy with blond curls got in-between her baby boy and three wolf cubs, Constance had been her youngest child’s alpha. She will always be his mother – but his alpha, maybe not. 

And so she sat Brian O’Connor down beside her baby, and she said, “There are good alphas and there are bad alphas.” She likes to think she’s a good alpha; she knows her uncle wasn’t, so when she was twenty-seven, she challenged him under the old law. Few had believed her serious until she had his throat in her jaw, until she executed him for crimes against the pack. 

There were years before Brian O’Connor, and there were years after him, when Rome was locked away. Brian tried keeping in contact but it hurt too much. She never formally exiled him but she told him he couldn’t hang around, and once he’d left, asked him to stop calling. 

She knew then and she knows now that it wasn’t Brian’s fault Rome got caught. That he was even in the position, though… they encouraged each other, covered for each other, challenged each other. Two years in juvie should’ve taught them. 

A mere month before Rome’s release, Constance saw Brian O’Connor on the news, the subject of a manhunt for numerous crimes. The next day, three FBI agents came into her territory to ask what she knew about Brian. The lone wolf among them tried intimidating her, snarling the questions, looming over her. The human agents let him. 

Constance just grinned up at him, leaning back comfortably in her chair. “I haven’t seen the O’Connor boy in five years,” she drawled. “Not since I told him to move out of my territory. I haven’t heard from him either. He’s not welcome here.” 

“If you do hear from him,” the wolf growled, “call us.” 

As they all stalked out, Darren, her oldest boy, her heir, asked, “Mama, what was that about?” 

She’d shushed him, waited until the sound of the FBI’s engine faded. “Spread the word,” she ordered. “If Brian O’Connor comes by, give him whatever help he needs.” 

“I’ll let everyone know,” Darren said. 

But Brian never did come by. Rome was released, but no one would mention Brian to him until he asked, and he only asked the once. 

She’d hoped that Rome would keep out of trouble, get the anklet off, find a way to be happy. He was her youngest, her baby boy. She’d hoped… 

.

Six months after the FBI stops by for the second time, this time about Rome, Constance gets a call mid-morning, while she’s flipping through the paper, sipping her lemonade. “Hi, Mama,” Rome says. 

“Boy, you are in _so_ much trouble the next time I see you,” Constance says, wiping at her eyes. 

“Uh, yeah, Mama, about that,” Rome says. 

“You’re with Brian.” Constance nods to herself, not even needing Rome to confirm it. “Has he finally figured things out, then?” 

“Not yet,” Rome laughs. “But he’s on the way. Even found himself a mate, if you can believe that.” 

“Are you safe, baby?” Constance asks. “Are you happy?” 

“Yes, Mama,” Rome tells her. He sounds happy. He sounds sure. “I’m not gonna say where, just in case there’re ears listenin’. But I am, Mama. I promise.” 

“Alright, baby. That’s all I want for you.” She wipes at her eyes again. “Tell Brian to take care of you ‘cause if he don’t, I’ll tan his hide.” 

Rome laughs again. “I will. I gotta go. I’ll try and call back. Give my love to everyone.” 

“I love you, Rome,” Constance says. 

“I love you, Mama,” her baby boy murmurs, and then he hangs up. 

Constance sets the phone down, sips her lemonade, and returns to the newspaper. She doesn’t believe her line is tapped, and if it is, whoever’s listening won’t let her know anyway. But Rome is safe. Rome is happy. 

Her baby boy is free. That’s all she wants for him. 

But there’s a whole pack that needs her, so she wipes her eyes one more time and goes to spread the news.


	8. Interlude 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here’s what Jesse never says: he knew Brian was a cop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Evanescence  
> Warnings: takes place during first and second movie  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 1585  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: any, any, even good men have secrets

Here’s what Jesse never says: he knew Brian was a cop. 

.

Dad’s in jail, has been for – ever, seems like. Mom left after Dad went to prison, and she didn’t take Jesse with her. Dad’s human and Mom’s a tabby cat, and Jesse’s a gray tabby, which the kids at school took great delight in mocking, and Jesse’s got ADD on top of having a cat’s senses and reflexes, and school was hell for a lot of reasons, okay? 

Anyway. 

His grandma, Dad’s mom, takes him in and fights as hard as she can when CPS sniffs around, but Grandma is old and human and Jesse spends days as a kitten sometimes, hiding away in tiny spaces to avoid school, and the authorities don’t like that. So they take him away. 

Foster care sucks. Jesse runs away nearly every week, and he’s moved around a lot while his social worker tries to find someone who can handle him, who can earn his loyalty so he’ll stay. 

Jesse’s a cat, though. They don’t need alphas. They’re loners, and his mom left and his dad got put in a cage, and he won’t trust anyone else, not ever. 

He meets Leon in his last foster home; Leon’s the kid who lives next door, who shoves the wolf cub that knocks Jesse into the dirt. All three of them get in trouble for the ensuing fight, but instead of running away that night, Jesse climbs the tree beside Leon’s window and meows to be let in. 

That night, Leon cuddles a gray kitten; Jesse shifts back in the morning, tucking himself in tightly, hoping Leon won’t hurt him too bad. 

Leon doesn’t hurt him at all. Instead, Leon patiently helps him with his homework, even though he’s got kids his own age demanding he go hang out, friends he drops the moment they’re mean to Jesse. 

Jesse’s social worker lets him stay at the house for almost a year. But when she’s about to move him, he runs away again. 

It’s stupid of him to go out in the middle of a storm. He can’t smell anything, can only hear rain and wind, and he gets all turned around. When he hears the howling over the wind, he thinks he’s imagining it at first. But it sounds… inviting. Warm. He follows it out of the storm and there’s this tiny woman waiting, huddled inside a rain coat. She grabs his hand and pulls him into a house, where a girl has hot cocoa waiting. 

“I’m Maria Toretto,” the woman says, throwing a towel over Jesse’s shoulders, drying his hair with another. “My daughter, Mia.” The girl smiles at him. She’s probably Leon’s age. 

“I’m Jesse,” he says, snuggling into the towel. The cocoa’s still too hot to drink but it gives his hands something to do.

The woman coughs, deep and painful-sounding, and Jesse sits up so fast he spills the cocoa, burning his hands. “Why were you out there if you’re sick?” he demands, but Mrs. Toretto just waves dismissively at him. 

“You needed help,” she says when she has her voice back. “Mia, help him, okay, bella? We’re keeping him.” 

“Mama, you can’t just kidnap him!” Mia argues, but she’s already moving towards Jesse with a smaller towel and she helps him with the spilled cocoa. 

“They shouldn’t have lost him,” Mrs. Toretto shoots back, heading for the stairs. “Jesse love, we’ll talk more in a little while.” 

.

Jesse never leaves the Torettos. His social worker, a fox, has one meeting with Maria Toretto and signs off on it as a placement. Jesse climbs up the tree to Leon’s room to let him know where he’s moved to and Leon follows him back, where Mrs. Toretto just invites him in, too. 

Having a pack, Jesse learns from Mrs. Toretto ( _call me Maria, Jesse love, I mean it now!_ ) is just like having a family, only better. Family could leave you. Pack stays. 

Pack stays until death, which takes Maria only seven months after she gives him a home. He spends eight days as a mostly-grown cat, curled up in the smallest, least-accessible place he can fit in, ignoring Mia, Leon, Letty, and Vince, the pack Maria left behind. 

And then there’sDom, who’d been released from prison just in time for his mother’s funeral. Jesse fully expects to crawl out his hiding spot and be cast from the pack but Dom just engulfs him in enormous arms and holds on while Jesse cried. 

“You’re pack,” Dom rumbles at him and Jesse never leaves. 

. 

The first time Jesse sees Brian, he thinks, _You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on._

He investigates Brian Earl Spilner for Dom and it’s a good cover. He tells Dom about juvie, about lacking a pack. But then he looks deeper. 

He really was gonna tell Dom if they saw Brian again, but it’s not until the party, when Dom has already invited Brian into the den, that he has the chance. If he says anything now, Dom will kill Brian, or Vince will. 

He keeps almost saying something, to Brian or Dom or Mia, but the words just don’t come. He doesn’t know what to say or do, and Brian is just so awesome, and he listens to Jesse ramble and he asks intelligent questions and he fits in so fuckin’ seamlessly, and it can’t all be a lie, right? It can’t all be a lie. 

.

And it all goes to shit. Jesse is so sure he can beat Johnny Tran, but he can’t. Jesse runs until he has just enough gas to get back to the den, and Brian’s there pointing a gun at Dom, and Jesse can’t think about that so he just spews a lot of word vomit, and then the Trans – 

But Brian covers him, and Jesse trembles and cries feeling so small under him, and Brian’s gone, and then Dom, and Mia says, “Brian’s a cop,” and “Vince is in the hospital,” and “Leon and Letty are running,” and “Oh, fuck, Jesse, oh _fuck_ ,” and then she picks herself up off the ground, drags Jesse with her, and they both go to work to see if anything can be salvaged from this nightmare. 

.

Brian doesn’t come back. 

.

Vince is in the hospital for a week and a half. 

Leon and Letty shuffle in (Letty in bandages with a cast on her left arm) three days after Dom disappears. 

Mia holds everyone together. She talks to the police and then reports back that the two cars found on the side of the highway are unusable, forensically speaking. If the truck driver (why the fuck did they try a job without Jesse? he doesn’t ask) doesn’t come forward, there isn’t much of a case. 

If _Brian_ doesn’t talk – 

But Brian’s gone. He’s wanted, just like Dom. Possibly _more_ than Dom. 

Vince comes home, a bit quieter. He’s the only one who gives Jesse the full story, about how the job went to hell, about the insane fucking cougar who jumped onto a speeding semi for him. Vince had been so sure he’d die on that truck, or that his arm would rip off and he’d fall under the wheels. 

Finally, Vince says quietly, “I owe him.” But Brian’s gone somewhere, just like Dom. 

.

Dom comes back half a year after. The cops arrest him but one of Mia’s friends is in law school, and his mom’s a big shot lawyer, so the cops don’t hold Dom for more than a night. 

Without the truck driver, there’s no case. Without Brian. 

It doesn’t feel quite right, the den without Brian there. Jesse isn’t sure if everyone else feels it, but he does. 

Brian’s gone, though. Jesse doesn’t try to find him, just in case the cops or Trans follow him. 

.

Ethan Tran, Johnny Tran’s father and alpha of the Tran pack, three days after, asked for a formal meet. It was early in the day, before Leon and Letty came home. Mia didn’t let Jesse attend. 

He overhears her explain it to Dom, though – Johnny Tran and Lance Nguyen, son and nephew of the alpha, attacked another pack unprovoked. A pack member justifiably killed one of the attackers and another has been suitably punished due to the severity of injuries he sustained. Alpha Tran believed the matter to be resolved. 

As acting Alpha Toretto, Mia agreed. 

“You did good, bella,” Dom whispers, and Jesse silently sneaks away. 

.

Brian still doesn’t come back, even though Jesse looks now without worrying about the Trans. The cops are still a concern, but Jesse knows he’s better than them. 

There’s a racer down in Miami, sounds like it might be Brian. He doesn’t tell anyone. He’s just relieved to know. 

.

A full year, two years, three years, four – Jesse works at the pack garage, races, dates. He’s stopped looking over his shoulder when the cops nab him after a race and hand deliver him to the Feds. 

“Jesse Herbert,” the stupidest looking agent says, “I’m Agent Stasiak. We’ve got a job for you.” 

Every agent in the room is human except for the tiny little Asian lady, who’s another cat of some kind. Jesse can’t tell what – she might be small like him or a big one like Brian, and that’s the only reason he doesn’t shift and try to escape. 

“I want to call my pack,” Jesse says, trying his best alpha-voice and utterly failing. 

“Like I said,” Agent Shithead repeats, “We’ve got a job for you.”


	9. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In another life, Brian knows the Torettos could be his pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Evanescence; some dialogue taken directly from the film  
> Warnings: AU, violence  
> Pairings: Brian O’Connor/Carter Verone, Dominic Toretto/Letty Ortiz  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 14,895  
> Point of view: third  
> Note: thanks to 5012allinarow for beta bits.  
> Another note: if it takes place in Argentina, they are probably speaking Spanish (unless it’s Rome) – however, I do not speak Spanish and I’d rather not risk an online translation program.  
> Still another note: Dudes. This chapter fought me so hard, completely unlike all the rest.

“How many American agencies are after you?” Valentina demands with a raised eyebrow as they step off the plane. 

“All of ‘em, probably,” Brian laughs. “Hey, Valentina.” 

“Yes, yes, of course, welcome.” She smiles, kissing Carter on the cheek as he murmurs, “Buenos dias, Mama,” and then Brian. 

“Valentina,” Brian says, clapping Rome on the shoulder, “this is my packbrother, Roman Pearce. Rome, this is Carter’s mother, Valentina Herrera Verone.” 

“Nice to meet ya,” Rome says, giving a dramatic bow and kissing her hand. 

Valentina giggles, visibly charmed, and the last vestiges of Brian’s nerves settle. She likes Rome; Brian had known she would. 

“Come, come,” Valentina says, shooing them towards the cars. “Brian, you will be driving Carter, of course?” He nods and she grabs Rome’s hand. “Are you as talented as your packbrother?” 

“Ma’am, I taught him everythin’ he knows,” Rome says, standing up tall and puffing out his chest. Brian scoffs but doesn’t deny it. 

“Then impress me, coyote,” she challenges and Brian shares a glance with Carter before they both roll their eyes. 

…

Carter picks up his imports/exports business right where he left off. Brian spends most of his time exploring the new territory, Rome either at his heels or somewhere nearby getting into trouble by flirting with any- and everyone. Rome’s passable at Spanish when he tries – he doesn’t try that often, unless trying to get a tumble with somebody. 

Buenos Aires of course has thousands of alphas and hundreds of thousands of shifters – Valentina has been holding court in certain circles for decades, because of her father’s position, similar to Carter’s in Miami. 

There is a sense of history in the villa that Brian has never felt anywhere else, and he listens to Valentina’s stories with awe – Aunt Constance had talked like this, and the older aunties, but Brian hadn’t usually been present. Rome has never even been on the list of heirs for when Aunt Constance finally passes. He didn’t want to be alpha – it’s just never been his nature. 

“Man, it’s ancient history,” Rome griped when his older brother Darren told him to attend the next lesson on the pack’s lore. Darren had just sighed and swatted him on the shoulder. 

But here, Brian settles beside Valentina on the balcony and she tells him stories that are hundreds of years old, and Rome’s out talking some pretty avian into bed, and Carter’s cultivating allies or strengthening old ties, and this is Brian’s pack. 

Valentina, like her father before her, is an alpha of power and respect. Not every person in her employ is a shifter, not even the majority. But there are hundreds, possibly thousands, in Buenos Aires and throughout Argentina and some even further, seeking contacts all the way up to Columbia and Venezuela. 

In Miami, Brian could pretend he wasn’t part of Carter’s business; here, in the villa of Carter’s childhood, Valentina details exactly what is needed from him because she is getting older and within the next decade or so, she hopes to step down. 

Once, when Valentina first broached the subject, three months after they’d left Miami, Brian had asked, “Shouldn’t you be having this conversation with Carter?” Carter, after all, was the only child of the alpha, and he ruled with control and clarity. He perhaps wasn’t as warm and inviting as Aunt Constance, and he didn’t quite have Valentina’s way with people, but he was fair and firm. 

“Brian,” Valentina had said, staring him right in the eye. “Do you truly not know?” 

He’d swallowed and bitten his lip but he hadn’t looked away. “I’m not an alpha,” he’d said simply. 

She had smiled and shaken her head, and then said, “Well, you will listen to a foolish old jaguar anyway, si?” 

Whenever Valentina holds court with the various factions of the business (which makes Carter’s back in Miami seem small), Carter and Brian both attend. If it’s with someone who doesn’t have Valentina’s full trust (or Carter’s), Rome attends, too, lurking in corners with other shifters of the pack. 

The first time Brian and Rome work in full concert, without words, to put down a foolish attempt on Carter’s life, Valentina gives Brian a hug and a kiss, and then leaves the would-be assassins in Brian’s care instead of Carter’s. 

Brian is perhaps more merciful than most would be, but Carter wasn’t actually wounded. The implications are plain, anyway. 

“You don’t mind?” he asks as he crawls into bed with Carter, the stench of blood still clinging to him. 

“I’ve told you before,” Carter says, pulling Brian to him, kissing his way along Brian’s jaw, down his throat. “You’re a better criminal than you ever were a cop.” 

… 

Months pass as Carter takes up more of his mother’s position. Brian takes up the rest, though of a few of the older packmembers protest. A year and a half after they leave Miami, Valentina sends out word that the old ritual of dominance will happen on the first new moon of the New Year. 

“I don’t want to be alpha!” Brian shouts at Rome and Carter, as far away from Valentina as he can get in the villa. He loves her more than he ever did his own mother, more than he did Aunt Constance, but he still wants to claw her. 

Carter laughs while Rome rolls his eyes. “This is why you need me around,” Rome says, swatting at him. “Cuz, have you really not noticed that you and the cat here are co-alphaing everyone already?” 

“This is just going to be for show,” Carter says. “All challengers must defeat both of us, fighting in tandem. Mama will still be alpha for a while longer, but this is so that morons stop raisin’ a fuss.” 

Brian looks at Carter and then to Rome. “Really?” 

“Really,” Carter promises. “It’ll be alright, I swear.” 

…

Half a dozen avians back out, one after the other, when they realize they’ll be facing a cougar and a jaguar. Another jaguar, two wolves, and one black bear try their luck and fail. Because Brian is merciful, he lets them all live though by right of conquest he could claim their lives. 

The ritual is completed by sunrise, with Brian and Carter standing shoulder to shoulder, covered in blood and sweat. “Any more challengers?” Carter shouts at the surrounding crowd, hundreds of shifters from across the continent, the only ones who dared to come. 

When no one steps forward, Carter smiles and turns to Brian. Valentina, as her other half, stalks up to them and then shifts, kissing first Carter’s forehead and then Brian’s. 

“By rite of conquest,” she pronounces, “and by right of blood, I name you my heirs: Carter Jonathan Joaquin Herrera Verone and Brian James O’Connor.” She kisses them each again and then leads the way back to the cars, where Rome drives all three of them to villa.

…

The next few months are quiet until Valentina tells Brian, “Our ally in Brasil, Hernan Reyes, he has asked for our help. A Mexican upstart has been moving into his territory.” 

“I’ve seen your file on Reyes,” Brian says. “What’s he need our help for? He’s got more than enough people he could send.” 

Valentina laughs. “Si, but none of Reyes’ people know Los Angeles. You do.” 

“And?” Brian leans back in his chair, tilts his chin up. “I show my face, I get arrested.” 

“Brian.” Valentina sits up so that she can stare him down. “He will owe us a favor. Will you, heir, visit Los Angeles to sniff out this Braga that dares encroach on _our_ territory with his inelegant operation?” 

“Yes,” he bites out. “If _you_ tell Carter I’m going.” 

She scoffs, “Impudent brat,” and he gives her his most charming grin. 

“Anything else?” he asks. She shakes her head, so he says, “Awesome, I’m gonna go tell Rome that we’re headin’ to LA.” 

…

Carter oversees the preparations for their covers personally. He also tries to send Enrique and Roberto but Brian tells him no. “I trust them with your and Valentina’s lives,” Brian says, gently trailing his fingers along Carter’s spine. “I want them with you if I’m not gonna be here.” 

“Fine,” Carter mutters. “But you be careful, babe.” He looks up, catching Brian’s gaze. “If anythin’ happens to you while you’re gone, someone’ll bleed for it.” 

“I’ll be careful, I promise,” Brian soothes. “I’ll have Rome with me.” He stands and tugs Carter with him. “C’mon, let’s get one last run one in.” 

They stalk and pounce each other throughout the villa, bowling over members of the pack who get in the way while avoiding the human staff. Valentina gives a dramatic sigh while Rome yelps, “Leave me out of this, cuz!” The final tally is a tie and they curl up in the tallest tower, surveying the territory. 

Brian shifts back first because there’s a question he needs answered. “You don’t want me to go because I’m safest here in the heart of our territory? Or you don’t want me to go because I’ll probably run across Dom somewhere?” 

Carter gives the question twenty minutes of thought, stretched out across Brian’s lap. Brian runs his fingers through the fur on Carter’s neck, messes with his ears. Waits patiently. 

Finally, Carter shifts back and kisses Brian, deep and long, before saying, “You’re safe here. And I trust you, Brian. I trust you.” 

“Okay,” Brian says, tugging him back in for one last tumble. 

…

Brian Lafferty and Roy Pierson get off a plane at LAX on a bright Tuesday morning. No one meets them; all they have is a single carry-on bag each. “This,” Roy mutters as their taxi pulls away from the airport, “is the _stupidest_ thing we have ever done, brah.” 

Brian laughs and replies, “You know, cuz, that ain’t anywhere near bein’ true.” 

…

The first thing to do, Brian decides, is re-familiarize himself with Los Angeles. Rome, of course, has never been so he’s no help at all. But he sends Rome to the various racing scenes, has him ask around about Braga (as covertly as Rome can), while Brian sniffs around the known drug kings, seeing if they know anything of use. 

When they meet up to share information, they’ve both learned the same thing: talk to David Park. 

“Man, how many David Parks _are_ there?” Rome grumbles, flipping through the phone book. 

“He won’t be in there,” Brian comments without looking up from the computer. 

“I know that,” Rome says. “But at least this way, we can eliminate them, you feel me?” 

“We need a tech,” Brian says, shoving the computer away from him. “Damn it.” He sighs. “We can hire a guy, but I don’t…” 

“You don’t what?” Rome asks.

Brian gets up to pace. “Park recruits drivers, right?” he mutters. “So Dom would have to know about it. And Jesse – hell, he’ll have gotten better with time. So either Dom can get us to Park just by being Alpha Toretto, or Jesse can track him down for us. Fuck.” He spins around to ask Rome, “What do you think?” 

Rome holds up his hands. “This is your show, bruh. I’m just here to back your play and make sure you don’t get your fool self in trouble.” 

“Damnit,” Brian hisses. 

…

The Toretto pack still dens in the same place, and Brian stares up at the house nervously. “Whatcha scared for?” Rome murmurs into his ear. “You’re heir of the Herrera pack. Act like it, brother.” 

Brian scoffs. “That swagger won’t help me here,” he says, but just the thought of Carter settles him down. 

He was a different person when he was last here. None of the Toretto pack have met Brian O’Connor. He nods firmly and strides up to the door, knocking once. Rome is at his shoulder, steady and sure. 

He recognizes the heavy tread moving toward the door, the scent. “Hey, Vince,” he says as the door opens. 

“Buster,” Vince rumbles after a moment of shocked silence, his eyes widening. “Never thought we’d see you again.” 

Brian shrugs. “I’ve had an eventful few years. Can we come in? I request an audience with the Toretto pack.” He nods toward Rome. “My packbrother, Roman Pearce.” 

“Until my alpha says otherwise, I welcome you into the den in peace,” Vince replies, stepping back. “C’mon in.” 

…

The den hasn’t changed much. There are few new pictures up, which Brian glances at while pinpointing everyone in the house with his hearing – he finds Mia, Leon, Letty, and Dom, all converging on the living room, with Vince in the kitchen getting drinks for them. But Jesse isn’t there, which is odd because everyone else is. 

“Brian,” Mia says, stepping into the room. She looks older, settled in her skin. Her diploma is up on the wall and there are a few books scattered around, so Brian decides to ask, “How’s med school?” 

“Difficult,” Mia chuckles. “Brian, we owe you so much.” She hurries across the room and hugs him tightly, scenting him. “Thank you.” 

Letty strides in and eyes Rome warily before crossing over to scent Brian, too, with a muttered, “Thanks, cat.” Brian just grins and nods. 

He nods to Leon, too, and then accepts the Corona from Vince – and then Dom’s there, arms crossed, and he says, “Welcome in peace, Brian O’Connor. What can the Toretto pack do for you?” 

Brian listens closely but there’s no one else in the house. He asks, “Where’s Jesse?” 

Dom’s gaze is hard. “Gone.” 

Brian blinks and glances at Rome, who of course doesn’t know anything. “He left the pack?” Brian asks. 

Dom snarls. “He’s missing, O’Connor. My pack owes you so name your price.” 

“You don’t owe me _anything_ ,” Brian says, ignoring Rome’s scoff. “But I do need Jesse’s help. What do you mean, missing?” 

Mia says, “He got picked up by the FBI and they held all of our freedom over his head.” There’s rage and pain in her tone, but she keeps the words even. “So he started driving for some bigshot druglord, but he wouldn’t tell us who, and then he just… didn’t come back.” 

_Bigshot druglord_. Brian glances at Rome again, who nods. A bigshot druglord being investigated by the Feds – a bigshot druglord who needs drivers. Yeah. That’s their guy. 

“You know something,” Dom says, and suddenly he’s across the room in Brian’s face. “What do you know, Brian?” He tilts his head, not looking away from Brian’s eyes. “Why do you need Jesse?” 

“I’m here to find out about a bigshot druglord sniffin’ around my pack’s territory,” Brian says, not giving Dom an inch of his space. “I’m here for intel because he’s trespassin’ on one of our allies and my alpha could use a favor owed to her.” Dom’s eyes narrow but Brian continues, “And I’m thinkin’ that our bigshot druglord and Jesse’s is the same.” 

“ _Your_ pack,” Dom repeats. 

“That’s right.” Brian nods. “Things have changed, Dom. Now, Alpha Toretto – will you help us find the druglord?” 

“If he killed Jesse, he’s mine,” Dom says, just barely growling. 

“If he killed Jesse,” Brian says, “I’ll help you make him regret it.” 

They continue staring at each other, neither willing to look away, until Rome says, “Any food around here? We hungry.” 

Brian chuckles and Dom smiles. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner,” he says, and the tension vanishes as quickly as it rose.

…

Rome bounces back and forth from each member of the Toretto pack, gathering more information than Brian thinks anyone but maybe Mia realizes. Brian spends most of the time before dinner’s ready gently extracting information from Leon about Jesse’s final months with the pack. 

He got scooped up by the FBI five months ago and completely disappeared six weeks ago. He only ever called his handler _Agent Shithead_. Even though it obviously tore him up inside, he didn’t tell Dom anything of importance because whatever Agent Shithead had, Jesse believed the threats against the pack. The druglord had two mouthpieces that frightened Jesse, who never got close enough to smell the actual alpha. Dom has tried finding out more from the Feds but he was stonewalled; they’ve been going to races and trying to investigate but found nothing. 

Brian could tell them the name of the druglord, but he doesn’t trust Dom not to go tearing off in a rage and get everyone killed. Dom, like Mia, seems to have settled into his skin. But until Brian can see that he’s putting his pack first, not taking any stupid risks – he likes Dom, he always has, but Dom has to earn his trust. 

Maybe that’s hypocritical, but Brian doesn’t care. He didn’t understand before, what a good alpha was. Not really. He had Aunt Constance, who was never his alpha. He loved her and he respected her, but he was always outside the pack. But he’s seen Valentina, now. Suki. Carter. 

Himself, maybe. 

Dom loves his pack, that’s obvious in every interaction. But Brian’s vision is clouded with that last day, with how it could’ve gone.

“So Brian,” Letty says. “What you been up to, man?” 

“Nothin’ much,” Brian baldface lies, and it’s clear none of them believe him. “Alright, so I went to Miami,” he says. “Raced a little. Dated.” He shrugs. “Found a pack to call my own.” 

“And now a druglord is trespassin’ on an allied pack,” Dom says. “So you’re here for your alpha. Now, what I’m wonderin’ is this – is it the drugs the bastard’s sellin’ that’s botherin’ your alpha, ‘cause drugs are dangerous and stupid. Or is that the bastard’s stealin’ customers?” 

Brian lifts his chin, smiling with teeth. “Do you need to know that to help me find the druglord?” 

Everyone is staring down at their food, except for Rome, who’s just straight-up staring at Dom. “You know,” Rome says, going back to his food, “you talk about this debt you owe my boy. Now, he won’t be callin’ it in, so I’ma do it for him.” He chews obnoxiously loudly, ignoring the shocked and bewildered looks thrown his way, and continues with studied indifference, “Now my boy, he risked a lot for you. Whether he knew it or not at the time, y’all’s stupid asses was his pack, and he kept the lot of you outta prison.” He glances back at Dom, points at him with the fork. “You, big man, you know the feel of the cage, I know you do. The rest’a you can’t imagine it, so let me illuminate it for you.” 

Brian just sits back in the chair, crosses his arms, and listens as Rome talks about walls, and fences, and _stares_ , and doing the same thing day in, day out. About having to watch his own back because there was no one else to trust. About what these sorry-assed wolves _owe_ Brian, and that he’s here because he remembers them with fondness, but Rome thinks they could do it on their own. 

“You the boss?” Dom asks, and there’s a hint of shame in his scent. “Or was I talkin’ to the boss?” 

And Rome – Rome tightens. Bares his teeth. Glares at Dom in a way Brian’s never seen him glare before, not at anybody in twenty years. (But there’s those years Brian wasn’t there.) 

“You’re not my alpha, Toretto,” Rome snarls, and Brian readies himself to catch Rome, not let him attack Dom because that’s a fight Rome cannot win. “From what I know, you’re a _shit_ alpha.” And now the rest of the pack are growling, and Dom’s sitting forward in his chair like he’s going to spring out of it –

“ _Enough_ ,” Brian declares. “All of you.” He gets all of their attention, meets each of their eyes, Rome and Mia and Letty and Vince and Leon, and finally Dom. “Alpha Toretto, thank you for dinner. I’ll call you tomorrow to see if you’ll lend us your aid in this search.” He stands unhurriedly, drains the rest of his Corona, and calmly walks out of the yard, Rome at his heels. 

“I’m not gonna apologize,” Rome says two blocks later. 

“You don’t need to,” Brian assures him, knocking into his shoulder. “But I didn’t want to fight them. Hopefully they’ll come around.” 

“Bri,” Rome asks, “why don’t you wanna use the pack name?” 

Brian shrugs, signaling a cab. “I guess I just…” He searches for the words while telling the driver their hotel, and then kneads at his jeans, slumping against Rome. “I don’t know.” 

“When you figure it out, let me know,” Rome says. “’cause I think that jackass wolf is gonna ask.” 

“Yeah, he definitely will,” Brian agrees. And they could find intel on Braga without Dom and the pack, but Jesse… if Jesse is alive, having four wolves on their side might give them an edge. And either way, Dom is probably going to get them all killed, with or without Brian there. 

They’re not his pack, no, but in another life – maybe they might have been. 

Brian pays the driver and they head upstairs. Rome throws himself on the bed, immediately clicking on the TV and searching for something worth watching. Brian curls up on the small sofa and calls Carter. 

“Hey, babe,” he says. “Can you have the pack farthest north begin looking around for a small cat?” 

“Of course,” Carter replies. “What do I need to know?” 

…

Rome spends most of the morning looking for cars to either steal or win. He has three leads on David Park and the second pans out: there’s a race in two days, but they need cars. 

Brian, meanwhile, investigates the FBI agents based in LA to see which might be Jesse’s Agent Shithead. It’s slower going than Rome’s mission because Brian can’t be seen. 

They meet up for lunch at a café near their hotel and while chomping down on a sandwich as big as his head, Rome asks, “You gonna call him?” 

“Yeah,” Brian mutters. He pulls out his phone, checks with his hearing and nose if anyone dangerous is lurking, and calls Valentina. “Alpha,” he says. “Will our ally care if the interloper dies or am I just here for information?” 

She laughs. “If we deal with this interloper,” she replies, “we will be owed two favors.” 

“Good to know,” he says. “I’ll call when I know more.” Valentina hangs up before he can, and Brian grins at Rome. “That simplifies things, doesn’t it?” 

“Sure does,” Rome nods. 

Brian sets his phone aside to push his French fries around on his plate till Rome asks, “What’s wrong, brother?” 

Brian shrugs. 

Rome sets his sandwich down and stares at Brian until Brian flicks his gaze up. “Brian.” 

“I just… I guess I know what I gotta do,” Brian finally says. “They’re good people, Rome. I tore ‘em apart last time I was around.” 

“That’s not what I hear,” Rome says. “You kept ‘em all out of a cage. Put yourself in danger.” The words are bitten off, sharp. Rome is _angry_ , actually glaring at Brian. “Things coulda gone - _shit_ , Brian. You coulda died. You realize that? We got a pack now. Your boy. But you coulda died and none’a it woulda happened.” 

Brian looks down. “I hear you,” he murmurs. Then, louder, “Finish eating. I’ll call ‘im after lunch.” 

…

Dom didn’t want to talk over the phone – he demanded they return to the Toretto den for dinner, which had Rome growling, but Brian just said, “We’ll be there,” and hung up. 

This time, he doesn’t hesitate on the front walk. It’s a little rude to just stride into someone else’s den but they’re invited. Expected. With Rome’s soft chuckle trailing behind them, Brian opens the front door. 

Dom’s waiting, of course, and his gaze is heavy on Brian, but Brian just juts out his chin, grinning with fang. “We need cars,” Brian says. “You got any?” 

…

The Toretto pack has never met Brian O’Connor. He decides it’s time they do. He’s got a pack now. He’s the heir apparent of the pack, mate of the alpha’s other heir, finally at ease with himself and the world. 

He’s never backed down, never blinked, but he can back it up now. 

“I can give you the name,” Brian says, leaning against the wall, body loose. “My alpha doesn’t care if the bastard lives or not. Me and Rome’ll help you hunt him down, rescue Jesse if he’s alive, and then the bastard will die – either for his crimes against the Herrera pack’s ally or against the Toretto pack.” 

“Herrera?” Dom rumbles. “Don’t recognize the name.” 

“No reason why you should,” Brian says. “We’re a whole continent away.” He grins innocently, spreading his hands. “As the heir, Alpha Toretto, I can ally us with other packs.” 

“Heir?” Mia repeats. 

“I am,” Brian says. “I’m formally asking for an alliance, Alpha Toretto.” 

Rome moves to flank him as they wait, and Mia steps up beside Dom. “I accept, Heir Herrera,” Dom says. “Now, let’s talk business.” 

…

Dom has cars; Rome has the location of the race. 

“Arturo Braga,” Brian says. “A guy named Park draws in drivers. I figure, a few of us roll into the race, it’s suspicious. But Letty, you choose random races sometimes, right?” 

“Yeah,” she laughs. “Where I’m not known. It’s good for easy money.” 

“Okay.” Brian nods, looking back at Dom. “She races, she wins. Gets us the ID of the rest – we get rid of them, then at the next race, I’ll win.” 

Dom frowns, first at Brian and then at Letty. “That’s risky,” he says. “I’ve already lost one pack member.” 

Letty huffs, baring her teeth at him. “I’m gonna do it for the pack. For Jesse.” 

He growls at her, and she flinches back, but then she sits up straight. “Dom,” she says. “You know I’m the best after you. You can’t pretend you’re not an alpha and it’ll fall apart. They’ll never believe it. But I can do this.” 

“Dom,” Mia adds, “you know she can.” 

Brian carefully averts his gaze and pretends he can’t hear as the Toretto pack begin discussing amongst themselves. 

Vince is good, but he’ll never submit to anyone but Dom and he can’t fake it. Leon’s human. Mia’s good, too, but she’s got school. Dom wouldn’t be able to fake it any better than Vince, and possibly worse. 

“Fine,” Dom finally says. “But if you get any sense somethin’s wrong, you get out. You understand?” 

“Yeah,” Letty says. “I understand, alpha.” She leans over to kiss him, and Dom pulls her into his lap. She twists around, putting her back to his chest, and raises an eyebrow at everyone. “Well? After I win, what’s the play, O’Connor?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Then you get us those names so we can make sure at least one of them isn’t available for the run.” 

“No one’s leavin’ this table till we have the whole thing down,” Dom says. “I ain’t takin’ any risk I don’t need to, not with my pack.” 

Brian smiles, at once relieved and a little suspicious. “Okay,” he says. “Then I hope there’s more food, ‘cause Rome’s gonna need it.” 

…

That night, Brian reports to Valentina and then spends an hour on the phone with Carter. Rome makes himself scarce till just after one in the morning, when he sneaks into the room smelling like an avian. “Rome’s back,” Brian tells Carter. “I’ll talk to you in a couple days, okay, babe?” 

“Don’t do anythin’ stupid, Brian,” Carter orders and Brian laughs, “You know me, Carter.” 

“Yeah, I do,” Carter says, ending the call. Brian laughs again as Rome flops across the bed. 

…

The worst part is always the waiting. Knowing that someone is in danger, out of Brian’s reach to help. What makes the whole thing worse is that Brian put Letty in that position, but it’s the best way. 

“We could go for a run,” Rome suggests but Brian shakes his head. “We could spar,” Rome suggests next. “One of the cat’s been teachin’ me a few tricks.” 

Well, it _was_ Rome’s suggestion, so he’s got no excuse for yelping when Brian turns on his heel and pounces. 

…

In the morning, Dom calls to say, “She’s in. Gave us names. Me and Vince’ll take care of one the drivers – just make sure you catch attention at the next race.” 

“You got it,” Brian replies. Three days to kill, so Brian goes hunting the FBI again. 

…

He can’t get close enough that anyone who might’ve scented him before scents him now, and he’s also got to be aware of cameras. Leon and Mia had told him everything they could remember that Jesse had said, and Dom had told him to search Jesse’s room for anything that might be useful. 

Of course, if the Feds had threatened the pack, Jesse wouldn’t have brought home anything that might be dangerous. He gave it all a look anyway but there was nothing except a few napkins with sketches on them. He visits the deli the napkins are from, and it turns out the place is pretty popular with the local FBI agents. 

He brings a book with him, to give him a reason to lurk for hours, and he orders coffee, reads a few chapters, orders a sandwich and coke, reads a few more chapters, orders a slice of pie, reads a few more chapters. He spends most of the day at the deli, watching and scenting and listening to every Fed that stops by. 

Just after lunchtime, a pretty little cat FBI agent orders “the usual” which turns out to be six sandwiches to go. Brian glances down at the pictures he took of Jesse’s napkin sketches, one of which is a pair of eyes. He catches the cat’s gaze as she leaves and they’re the same. _Huh,_ he thinks, inhaling sharply to memorize her scent. 

The cashier called her “Agent Trinh.” Asked if any headway had been made in the case. Brian smiles down at his book and turns the page. 

Around mid-afternoon, a human with the cat’s scent on him stomps his way into the deli. He’s rude to the cashier as he orders four smoothies. The cashier calls him “Agent Stasiak,” sounding annoyed. 

There’s a caricature on one of the napkins, and Brian flicks his gaze between the picture on his phone and Agent Stasiak, who knocks over the napkin dispenser with a muttered curse. _Hello, Agent Shithead,_ Brian thinks, watching the man hurry out. 

Trinh and Stasiak. It’s enough of a lead that he can head out. He leaves a twenty on the table, smiles at the cashier, and steps into the sunshine. Stasiak is messing around with his keys, trying to juggle the four smoothies, and Brian has always loved challenges. 

“Can I help you with that, sir?” he calls, rushing over to catch the drink carrier as it slips from Stasiak’s grip. 

“Fuck!” Stasiak shouts. He hits the unlock button and opens the passenger door, then takes the drinks from Brian with a muttered, “Thanks.” 

“No problem, sir,” Brian says. Stasiak glances at him as he moves around the car, gives him a strained smile. “Have a nice day,” Brian adds as Stasiak slides into the car. 

There was the tiniest trace of Jesse’s scent in the car. Barely there. Trinh must never ride in the car, and anyone else who has was human, too. Jesse had, though. Agent Shithead and Trinh, and there’s two more people, at least. Most likely human. There aren’t enough shifters to be doubling up teams. 

Brian catches a cab and gives an address that’s a good twenty-minute walk from Dom’s den. “Where ya at?” he asks Rome when Rome answers the phone. 

“Man, there’ve been about a dozen drivers who got hired by Braga,” Rome says. There’s the sound of waves in the background. “They get hired and then they’re never seen again.” 

With everything else they’ve learned, it’s not surprising. “Braga gets them to move the product and then kills ‘em at the other end. Fuck, Rome.” The best drivers are shifters, and most shifters have some sort of a pack, even if just what his used to be, him and Rome. “Dom is going to be _pissed_ , dude.” 

“Was your day productive?” Rome asks, and then to someone else, “Heeey, beautiful. There’s this club I know – wanna go with me?” 

Brian rolls his eyes as giggling ensues. “A’ight, beautiful,” Rome says. “Just give me sec, yeah?” 

“Oh, you’re gonna talk to me now?” Brian asks. 

“Shaddup,” Rome says. “I’ll be back at the room by midnight. But if you need me, call me. Y’hear?” 

“Have fun, Rome,” Brian orders. “I’m just heading to their den so Letty and I can compare info, and maybe placate Dom a little. I’ll see you later.” He hangs up and calls Carter. 

It’s a nice day, bright and warm. Carter updates him on the pack, on the business, on Valentina having to punish three humans who fucked up what should’ve been a simple assignment. Roberto has begun courting one of the apprentice cooks. One of Emma’s lieutenants just got engaged. 

Brian tells him about Jesse, about Jesse’s car gods, about how it felt to cover Jesse with his body while bullets peppered the air around them. Tells him about Trinh and Agent Shithead, about Jesse’s scent still in the car. Tells him, “Braga kills the drivers, Carter.” 

Carter snarls. “And of course your in is to be a driver. Fuck.” 

“If Braga is an alpha, he’s a shitty one.” Brian tilts his head to pinpoint where the sudden sirens are coming from. None get any closer, so they’re not for him. “Any info on the gray tabby?” 

“None,” Carter says. “But I’ll have them begin looking for a dumping site, too.” They listen to each other breathe for a moment before Carter adds softly, “Be careful, Brian.” 

“I will be,” Brian promises. He hesitates, knows Carter is hesitating on the other end, and then just goes for it. “Love you, Carter,” he says and then closes the phone. 

…

Mia’s the only one home when he gets to the den; the rest should be finishing up their day at the garage or shop any minute. “Come on in,” Mia says. “Want anything to drink?” 

“Just water,” he says, settling against the counter. She’s got most of the ingredients for dinner on the counter so he asks, “Want some help?” 

Mia laughs. “You any good at dicing vegetables? I’m making spaghetti.” 

“I’ll do my best,” he says, picking up the knife. 

As they work, he asks about school, if she’s seeing anyone, how things went after he left. She answers and asks her own questions in turn. 

He’s believed for years that he fucked things up for them, left them broken apart. But working side-by-side with Mia in the kitchen, he realizes that what Rome said was true – he didn’t break them. He actually saved them. Any other cop undercover and they’d be in a cage. 

Mia hip-checks him as she pours the pasta into the pot. “You in there?” 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he says. “Anything else I can do?” 

“Nope.” She shakes her head. “Everything’s ready but the pasta. They should be here in just a few minutes.” She tugs him into the living room. “So,” she says, biting at her lip, meeting his gaze and then looking away. “I looked into the Herrera pack.” 

“Oh,” he says, turning to look at the nearest picture: Dom and Vince and Mia, just cubs grinning at the camera, caught mid-laugh. “Find anything interesting?” 

Her laugh is sharp, humorless. “Brian.” 

“It’s fine,” he says, glancing back at her. “What you saw is either what the cops know or want people to think. Valentina’s too good, and her dad before her, for anything else.” 

“Valentina,” Mia repeats increduslously. “Her son, Carter Verone. You’re really the heir? Mated to Verone?” 

“I am.” He shrugs. “Look, Mia, I came here because Valentina asked it of me. I’m gonna see it through till Braga’s dead for Jesse, for all the shifters dead at Braga’s order. And then, once it’s done, I’m goin’ home.” 

“Brian,” she says again, moving in close enough to touch. “You can stay. You and Rome both. I know Dom wants you to.” 

He reaches out, cups her cheek, leans down to kiss her forehead. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hearing the engines get closer. “We’ll be goin’ home, Mia. But thank you.” He pulls away, going back to the pictures. She sighs heavily and returns to the kitchen, stirs the sauce, checks the noodles. 

In another life, Brian knows the Torettos could be his pack. Dom could’ve – but there’s Letty, and Brian likes her, and he doesn’t step into the middle of mates. But in another life. 

Mia, Brian sees by the pictures, looks like their mother, so delicate it hides the strength. Their father was big, like Dom. So big the gentleness of his hands was a surprise. Brian would’ve liked them, he’s sure. Whether they’d have liked him, though, that’s up for debate. 

“You’re stayin’ for dinner,” Dom says as he enters the den. 

“Damn right I am,” Brian agrees. “I helped make it.” 

…

Leon sets the table, Vince serves the food, and Brian sits down directly across from Dom. Leon reaches for the basket of bread first, so he says grace, murmuring about fast cars, voice just a little thick. 

“Amen,” Brian says, grabbing his own piece of bread. 

They all eat silently for a few minutes before Brian says, “Letty, tell me about the race.” 

…

Sharing intel turns into planning turns into once again having to convince Dom that Letty is the only one capable of what’s necessary turns into a shouting match with Dom turns into sharing a pack of Coronas turns into Dom saying, “Let’s go for a drive.” 

They take Dom’s car since Brian doesn’t have one yet, and Brian slips into the passenger seat. “Anywhere in particular we’re goin’?” he asks. 

“Nope,” Dom says as the engine growls to life. 

“Well, alright then,” Brian chuckles. “Let’s go.” 

…

The drive is silent, for the most part. Brian rolls his window down to catch the scents, rests his head against the seat, and closes his eyes.

“I owe you,” Dom finally rumbles as the car comes to a stop. Brian sits up, taking in the view: he used to run here, up in the hills above LA. “I owe you for my packmate’s life, for my pack’s freedom.” 

“I told you earlier, you _don’t_ owe me,” Brian says. “And even if you did, I wouldn’t call it in.” 

Dom laughs softly. “Tell that to your packbrother.” He glances at Brian before looking back down at LA. “I used to watch Mama, so damned curious about the way she guided Dad, the way she dealt with the neighbors’ quarrels. We were a small pack, mostly bound by blood. She was amazing, my mama.” He sighs, letting his hands drop from the steering wheel, unclips his seatbelt and opens the door. 

Brian follows him to the front of the car, where they both sit on the hood. “I tried, when I first got out of Lompoc. You should know that, Brian.” He pauses and Brian just waits, keeping his eyes on the bright lights of LA. “I tried to be an alpha like Mama, tried for her calm, her certainty, her quiet strength. And I managed, I did. Mia and Letty and Vince, and the two boys Mama added while I was away, that nervous little cat and the calm human, and it was good, Brian. I really think it was.” He pauses again, taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly. 

Dom’s shaking, Brian can feel it. Dom was a kid when he went into Lompoc, barely twenty years old. Still his mama’s second, broken inside because of how his father died. Still growing into himself, and trapped in a cage. He was a man when he got out – what was it, days after his mama died? Fuck. Let out of the cage and instantly shoved into being alpha, because who else could do it? Twenty-two years old, still reeling, and suddenly having to lead. 

So Brian reaches out and lightly grips the back of Dom’s neck. “You are a good alpha, Dom,” he says, meaning it. 

Dom laughs a little but doesn’t pull away. “I almost got us all killed, Brian. Because I wanted the thrill. I thought we needed the money. I wanted to feel alive, because I hadn’t since the cage.” He exhales noisily and then says, “I knew that first time I scented you in the shop.” 

Brian tightens his fingers on Dom’s neck and then lets go. “I wanted to be in your pack,” Brian admits. “I started losing focus almost immediately. But it’s too late, Dom.” 

“I know,” Dom murmurs. “It all got so fucked up. I wasn’t a good alpha then and I’ve been workin’ on it, but then Jesse...” He rubs at his face. “Last time I tried asking the Feds just what the fuck they got my cat involved in, they said they’d arrest me if I bothered ‘em again. I’ve stalked around the racing scene, frightening newcomers, harassing old timers, and there’s nothin’. Vince said he might’a heard somethin’, but when he went sniffin’ around, he got the shit beat outta ‘im. So I called everyone back in, ordered they keep their heads down, kept mine down for all our safety.” He shakes his head. “And then you knock on my door.” 

“Dom, we can do this without you,” Brian says. “I’ve got my mate looking for Jesse, and if we find anything, I promise we’ll tell you. But this shit is dangerous, and it’s only going to get worse.” 

Dom’s bark of laughter is sharp, and just a little sad. “Brian, if you try to cut us out now, we’ll just follow you.” He turns his head to look at Brian but his gaze is distant. “You coulda been my pack. You _are_ an ally, and a friend.” His eyes focus on Brian as he laughs again. “Besides, I ain’t tellin’ Letty she can’t do this.” 

Brian nods, smiling. “Alpha Toretto,” he says, “I promise I’ll do everything I can to bring your packmates home.” 

“Heir Herrera,” Dom says, reaching out to cup the back of Brian’s head, “do everything you can to bring yourself back, too, buster.” 

_In another life,_ Brian thinks. _In another life._

“We should head back,” Dom says, letting his hand drop. 

“Yeah,” Brian mutters, pushing off the hood. 

…

Dom drops him off at the hotel and neither of them breaks the quiet as Brian slips out of the car. Rome’s waiting in the room and it’s nearly three in the morning back home. But he wants to call Carter. Wants to just ramble about nothing while Carter listens, wants to ground himself in the pack he _has_ , not the pack that might’ve been. 

And Rome’s there, meeting Brian at the door, scenting him and holding him tight. “Shift, brother,” Rome whispers, and follows him down, presses in close, yammers at him softly in coyote, tries to move him towards the bed. 

Brian jumps onto it and curls up. Rome joins him and noses at his back before throwing himself across Brian’s shoulder. He’s not sure how comfortable the position can possibly be, but when he wakes up in the morning, Rome’s still there. 

…

Sneaking into the FBI’s headquarters in Los Angeles is a very stupid thing to do. Rome goes on about it at great length, as though Brian wasn’t already aware of that. He even calls Valentina on Brian’s phone and Carter on his own, just so that they can also enumerate the variety of ways it’s a bad idea. When _that_ doesn’t work, he calls Mia to demand, “Do you have any idea what this stupid cat is about to do?” She, Letty, Vince, Leon, and finally Dom all berate him – but that just means that Brian’s mission is pushed back a few hours. 

He makes sure to not leave the public access areas, and even though it’s suspicious, he keeps the hood up on his sweatshirt. He looks around, cataloging scents, trying to listen as hard as he can – but of course the FBI has those soundproof walls, so Brian can’t hear anything past the first floor.

He knows the second he trips the wolf security guard’s _trespasser_ alarm because the wolf doesn’t try approaching him, just shouts, “Hey, you! Stop!” 

Of course Brian doesn’t. The wolf’s partner, a human, is blocking the way back to the front entrance and there’s a bunch of civilians wandering around; Brian heads further into the building because there has to be other exits, if only in case of fire. 

The wolf summons reinforcements but Brian follows his nose to the nearest emergency exit and disappears. 

…

“Well?” Rome demands, arms crossed, teeth bared. “Did you learn anything new?” 

“So, that was a failure,” Brian admits. 

“You stupid fucker,” Rome growls. “You just gotta – do you even _think_?” 

Staring at Rome, Brian realizes, “I just did what I hated seeing Dom do. _Fuck_.” Good alphas and bad alphas – god _damn_ it. 

“Brian?” Rome asks, stepping in close, bumping his shoulder. 

“I gotta go for a run,” Brian says. “I think – I need to run.” 

“Then let’s go run,” Rome tells him. 

…

They spend the rest of the day, all night, and half the next day as their other halves. As they head back into the city, Brian realizes this is the most relaxed he’s been since they stepped off the plane. 

He waits until after he’s showered to call Carter; Valentina grabs the phone from her son after fifteen minutes to berate Brian for risking himself by going to the FBI. He hasn’t had such a good dressing down since he was fifteen, right before he got tossed into juvie. If Valentina and Aunt Constance ever meet… 

Once Carter is back on the phone, Brian just laughs. “Tell your mama that I’m sorry,” Brian says. “And I am, Carter. I won’t do somethin’ that stupid again, especially not once I’m alpha. I swear.” 

“I believe you, babe,” Carter says. “Now, tell me about this race.” 

…

Leon and Vince drive Brian’s car over, then take Leon’s car back to the Toretto den. It’s a sweet car that brings back memories – he raced every now and then back home, but not enough to sate him. “I almost feel sorry for the suckers that’ll be racin’ you,” Rome says as the car roars to life beneath Brian’s hands. 

…

Brian drives up, shares a final glance with Rome, and parks the car with a careful look around. Rome slinks away, easily getting lost in the crowd. As Brian begins to wander, one of the driver’s Letty mentioned decides to challenge him – Mueller, avian of some sort, with humans hanging off his arms. 

“Whatcha lookin’ at, kitty cat?” Mueller demands, so sure of himself on this territory that’s not even his. Trying to impress the humans? More than likely. 

Brian tilts his head to the side, smiles with the barest hint of teeth. “I don’t know; you tell me.” 

Mueller smirks, glancing at each woman in turn. “Oh, the kitty cat wants what Dwight’s got. See but, ladies, Dwight’s already in the flock.” One of the women is eyeing Brian and licking her lips while Mueller continues, “You gotta be fast if you want to drive for Braga.” 

Brian’s smile widens. Before he can say anything, though, a _very_ pretty feline stalks up, flanked by two wolves, a coyote, and a fox; the wolves are clearly her muscle while the other two are the drivers up for the spot. The feline gives Mueller a dismissive glance, asking, “Is there a problem here?” 

All of Mueller’s confidence vanishes as he replies, “No.” 

Not even trying to hide his chuckles, Brian looks at the feline as she asks him, “You one of Park’s guys, blondie?” 

“Yeah, I am,” he replies, still smiling. 

“Follow me,” she orders. 

Mueller regains his confidence, muttering at Brian, “See you later, punk,” as Brian falls into line behind the wolves, the coyote and fox trailing a little nervously behind him. Brian doesn’t even bother to acknowledge him. 

He does, however, catch Rome’s gaze across the parking lot, and Rome gives him a subtle nod. 

The feline leads them up a flight of stairs; Brian entertains himself trying to guess what she is. Something small but not a housecat. Her accent is odd, too – she’s trying for Hispanic, but there’s something else there. 

“The drivers,” she announces as they enter a putting green. A coyote is hitting golf balls onto a clear surface, which provides a view of the party going on below in the parking lot. There’s a wolf about Dom’s size cheering him on; the wolves that came in with the cat settle near him, but the cat stands, turning back to look at Brian and the other two. 

“Thank you, Gisele,” the coyote says. “This all of them?” 

She says, “Yes,” so without even turning to acknowledge them, the coyote says, “You all know why you’re here. Good drivers are a dime a dozen.” He swings the club and the driver-coyote shuffles a little nervously next to Brian. “Man,” the golfing-coyote continues, “every corner’s got a chingadera tuner racing for pinks. That’s not what Braga’s got me looking for.” He swings again, and it nearly distracts Brian from the way the coyote says _Braga_. There’s something wrong about it. 

And he _still_ hasn’t looked at them as he says, “Braga wants someone that would sell their abuelita to be behind the wheel.” Brian chuffs a little at that as the coyote turns to assess them, saying, “Someone that drives their ten-second cars not in a straight line but to push it and make it through places no one else would take it.” He approaches them slowly, surely, the alpha of this territory, and if Brian were here as Brian O’Connor instead of Brian Connolly, he would say what a practiced speech this sounds like as the coyote finishes, “ _Real_ drivers, entiendes?” 

Brian nods, along with the two other drivers. “Good,” the coyote says. “You know who I am?” 

“Campos,” the fox says serenely. “You hire drivers for Braga.” 

The coyote’s reaction to that isn’t quite right, but Brian’s not sure what’s wrong with it. Either way, the coyote nods. “I have one spot left for an upcoming shipment. You race for that spot tonight.” 

Gisele strides over, handing out small tablets. While Brian’s turning it over in his hands, the nervous coyote asks, “Hey, uh, Al- Campos, who’s closing these streets?” 

Campos chuckles. “No one,” he sneers with a hint of fang. “That’s the point.” 

The fox remains expressionless while the coyote just seems more nervous, even glancing at Brian as though for comfort. 

But Brian just keeps himself closed off, aloof. He’s Brian Connolly here, fresh out of prison, looking for somewhere to make easy money so he can disappear. Brian Connolly doesn’t care for anyone but himself. 

“Let’s race,” Campos orders. “Back to your cars.” 

…

As he stalks to his car, Brian sees that Letty and Rome have found each other. He settles into his car and drives it to the starting line while the GPS from the tablet downloads. He waits through the countdown, centering himself with one thought: _When I win, I’m one step closer to Braga._

“Go!” the GPS says so Brian leaps forward.

…

The coyote and fox are good, but not good enough. Brian quickly pulls into the lead and never loses it. 

“You have reached your destination!” the GPS says cheerfully as Brian rolls to a stop in front of Campos, the large wolf, and Gisele. 

The wolf strides over, clapping his hands. “Now that’s what I call real driving!” 

“You work for Braga now,” Campos says, holding out a hand that Brian shakes. “When the GPS calls, you follow.” He and the wolf turn to walk away. 

Gisele remains to ask for his driver’s license, which Brian hands over. Carter was in charge of the cover, which means it’s perfect. She then holds out another tablet, requesting, “Thumb.” He’s slightly more hesitant for that, which fits since he’s meant to be a felon. 

As the machine scans his print, he asks, “What are you?” 

She stares at him. “Does that matter?” 

“No, of course not,” he says. “Just curious. I grew up around canines, so their scents are easy. But I’ve never smelled one of you before.” 

She bares her teeth slightly. “You are here to drive. Campos is hosting a party for everyone tomorrow; the GPS will tell you where. Good evening.” She spins on her heel and stalks away. 

Brian shakes his head, smiling a little. He climbs back into his car and texts Rome, _Still at the party?_

_Yeah, brah,_ Rome answers. _Coming back?_

_Yup._ Brian drops the phone into the cup holder and backtracks to the party. 

Campos and his inner circle don’t come back, but Brian, Letty, and Rome stay until early in the morning, mingling and talking to the pack-adjacent of Braga’s pack. They finally all return to the Toretto den, where Rome and Brian shift so they can curl up on the couch together and Letty crawls into her and Dom’s bed. 

Brian wakes up first in the morning (since Mia has an early rotation, and Vince and Leon never get up before 9) and throws together a quick breakfast of toast and ham. Dom’s already at the garage, but Letty’s still asleep upstairs and Rome’s dead to the world. 

Brian decides he wants to work on cars today, so he heads up to Leon’s room and shakes him awake. “Hey, dude,” he asks once Leon’s eyes actually focus on him. “Can I borrow some clothes?” 

“Sure, whatever,” Leon mutters, rolling over and pulling a pillow over his head. 

After digging through two drawers, Brian chooses a T-shirt and sweatpants, showers, and borrows Leon’s car, too. 

…

“Hey, Dom,” Brian calls as he walks into the garage. “Got anything I can work on?” 

“That one,” Dom says, pointing towards the far wall. “Jesse was doin’ somethin’ to it and none of us can figure out what. Take a look.” 

While Brian bends over the engine, Dom says, “You wearin’ Leon’s clothes?” 

“Didn’t want to go back to the hotel,” Brian murmurs, attention fully on the car. “What the fuck did Jesse do?” 

Dom laughs. “Told you – none of us have any clue.” 

…

They work in companionable silence until lunch, which Dom goes to pick up and they eat in the office.

“There’s somethin’ wrong with Campos,” Brian says. “I just… the way he says his name, Braga’s I mean – but I’m not sure what, yet.” 

“You’ll figure it out,” Dom rumbles. “Letty says there’s a party tonight.” 

“There is. The GPS is supposed to tell us where.” Brian looks up from his chicken fried rice to meet Dom’s eyes as he says, “None of you should come, not even Rome.” 

Dom lifts his chin. “Why not?” 

Brian chuckles softly. “Because Campos can’t know I know all’a y’all. Letty sure, yeah – we can swing that as runnin’ into each other at races. But too many people might remember Brian Spilner and those months he ran with the Torettos.” He licks his lips, looking down into his rice. “And then there’s Jesse. If the whole pack is there, it’s suspicious. But just Letty out lookin’ on her own?” 

“I don’t like it.” He’s convinced, though. 

“Me neither,” Brian says. “But Letty and me’ll look out for each other.” 

“Yeah.” Dom sighs. Then, sounding tired, “Eat your lunch, cat. We got work to get back to.” 

…

At 4 pm, Brian left Dom still working at the garage and returned Leon’s car to the den. He picked up Rome so they could return to the hotel room, where Rome talked about all the intel he’d picked up and Brian showered until he couldn’t smell any of the Toretto pack anymore.

“I don’t like this,” Rome grumbles as Brian dresses carefully, trying to walk the line between freshly out of prison so taking pride in his appearance and too nice for the funds Connolly would have. He settles on jeans and a blue dress shirt to make people notice his eyes. It usually causes people to underestimate him, which he definitely needs. 

“Brian,” Rome demands, “did you hear me?” 

“Yeah, I heard you,” Brian says, running a hand through his curls. He’d cut his hair a little before leaving Buenos Aires – but as Connolly, trying to take back control of his life, the wild hair works. “But this is how it has to go, Rome.” 

Rome’s arms are crossed and he’s frowning petulantly. “There’s somethin’ off with that Campos,” he says. “And that wolf’a his, Fenix? Reminds of that human back in juvie, you remember the one.” 

Brian considers that, thinking back to the night before. Most of his attention had been on Campos – he’d barely even noticed Fenix, except that he was Campos’ primary guard. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, grabbing the GPS which has the directions to the party. 

He stops at the door and turns to face Rome. “I promise, brother,” he says, “that I won’t take any needless risks. I can’t promise anythin’ else.” 

Rome sighs heavily. “I’ll take that, then. But you go straight for their throats if you sense somethin’ off.” 

“Straight for their throats,” Brian says. “I’ll see you later.” 

…

The party starts pretty early. If Connolly weren’t just out of prison, he might have something to do. Instead he wanders around the property, memorizing the scents of Braga’s pack, and finally, just as the sun is setting, finds a few people to play pool with. The other drivers haven’t arrived yet, Mueller and Horzon and Letty, so Brian shoots the shit with three small cats and a human, playing a few games of pool. 

He knows when Letty gets there but they just share a glance as she moves further into the party. And then there’s a canine yelp and Letty’s voice is loud in the sudden silence as she growls, “Don’t touch me.” 

Brian leaves the pool table, but keeps the cue, and gets there the same time one of Braga’s wolves does. “Is there a problem?” the wolf asks, taking in the scene: Letty, back straight and head high, and a whimpering wolf on the ground. 

“I don’t like bein’ touched,” Letty says icily. 

“Okay,” the standing wolf says. He crouches to tell the other wolf, “Let that be a lesson to you.” 

Letty smirks with all her teeth and steps over the wolf, the crowd parting in front of her. Brian follows her, calling, “Letty, is that you?” 

She pauses and spins on her heel, then tilts her head inquisitively. “It _is_ you!” Brian says delightedly. “You grew up good, girl.” 

“Brian?” she says. “Holy shit.” She laughs and hurries to him so they can scent each other. “C’mon, cat, let’s get drinks and catch up.” She tugs him by the arm over to the bar.

Letty doesn’t have a cover, and she already knows Brian’s. But they need a way to explain how they’ll subconsciously gravitate to each other, so they sit at the bar and talk for a few minutes, about growing up in the same neighborhood, getting into the same trouble – but Letty found a pack and Brian didn’t. They haven’t seen each other in years, though Letty heard about him getting tossed into a cage. 

Campos stops by to clap Brian on the shoulder and ask them both, “Having a good time?” 

“Yeah,” Brian says and Letty nods, saluting him with her Corona. 

“Good, good,” Campos says. “Enjoy the party.” He moves on, so they get back to their conversation. 

Mueller finds them, already drunk or high or both, and he tries starting a fight, but Letty just looks at his humans and says, “You should get him out of here before he gets hurt.” Brian laughs, and Letty turns to him. “Wanna dance?” 

“Yeah,” Brian agrees so he follows her onto the makeshift dance floor. 

…

They stay at the party for a few hours, mingling and exploring; at one point, they see Campos and an old cougar sharing shots, but the wolves quickly shoo them away. There’s something about the cougar that rubs Brian the wrong way, just like Campos, but whatever it is, he still can’t quite figure it out. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Letty laughs, drunkenly falling back into Brian. “Where’s the little wolf’s room, boys?” 

One of the wolves chuckles, eyes trailing along her body. Brian snarls, low in his throat, which has the wolf looking at him, shocked. “Back down that hall,” the wolf says. “Turn left instead of right.” 

“Thanks,” Brian says, baring his teeth. “C’mon, babe.” He puts his arm around Letty’s shoulder and guides her away. 

They leave in separate cars, Letty going back to the Toretto den and Brian to his hotel. He picks up some food on the way, and also calls Carter, even though it’s gotta be almost dawn there. 

“I may have found something about your gray cat,” Carter says. “He was good with computers, right?” 

“Damn good,” Brian says. 

“There’s a pack making waves over in Europe.” Carter’s tapping his claws on something, which almost distracts Brian enough to miss the light turning red. “A little more than a month ago, they went dark and when they came back, they suddenly had no electronic trail.” 

“Is there a connection to Braga?” Brian asks, gunning the engine as the light turns green. 

“Not that I’ve found yet,” Carter says. “Sorry, babe.” 

Brian sighs, then asks, “How’s Roberto’s courtship coming?” 

Carter _snickers_. “It’s embarrassing. He keeps trying to recite poetry and tripping over the words.” 

Laughing, Brian turns into the hotel’s parking lot. “Well, does Rosalinda like it?” 

“She does,” Carter says. “She’s a sweet girl – an ocelot, I think.” 

“That’s all that matters, then.” Brian parks and just sits there, listening to Carter breathe. “I’ll text you when the GPS calls,” he says. “After that, though, I’ll have to go dark.” 

“Just remember this, Brian,” Carter tells him, soft and so very deadly. “I am my mother’s son.” 

“I’ll remember,” Brian promises. And he will, and he’ll try to avoid suicidal stunts because he has a pack now, a responsibility beyond himself. 

A packbrother that’s pacing through the carpet upstairs. “Goodbye, Carter,” he says, hanging up and grabbing the bags of food.

…

In the morning, Brian sleeps in. Rome delivers breakfast and Brian shares all the gossip he has about back home. Rome takes great pleasure in hearing about Roberto’s stumbling courtship of Rosalinda. 

The GPS starts buzzing just after Brian’s shower, while he’s still toweling off. “Text Carter for me!” he shouts, quickly pulling on jeans and one of his most comfortable shirts. 

“Your boy’s been told,” Rome says, tossing the phone to him while Brian ties his shoes. “Good luck, brother. I’ll be denning with the Torettos till this is over.” 

“Thanks, Rome,” Brian says, pocketing his wallet and grabbing his keys. Then he’s out the door and instead of waiting for the elevator, he jumps down all three flights of stairs. According to the GPS, he’s fifteen miles from the location and he’s got twenty minutes to get there. 

Piece of cake. 

…

He’s the last one there and he stays in the car as Campos’ guards search for trackers. Letty nods at him so he nods back, tracking which of Braga’s pack are present – wolves and coyotes, no one new, but Fenix and Gisele aren’t. 

After the search for trackers turns up nothing, Campos gestures and the semi in the warehouse lowers its ramp so Horzon drives up, then Mueller, Letty, and finally Brian. They sit in their cars as Campos barks orders and the semi starts up. Brian carefully controls his breathing – he likes enclosed spaces just fine when _he’s_ the one who chose them. 

Letty’s the first one out of her car, investigating the length of the trailer. Horzon is next, dropping down beside Brian’s car, and then Mueller follows, complaining about being locked in a truck. 

“Hey,” Brian says, slipping out of his car. “This is what it means to be in the flock, _Dwight_.” 

Mueller glares at him but Horzon and Letty chuckle. 

It’s a very long ride, without food or restrooms or even music. They have nothing to do but talk to each other, and Horzon turns out to be hilarious, and Mueller is, too, though unintentionally. Horzon is trying to make some quick cash so he can get his daughter into the horseback riding lessons she wants – “Won’t the horse spook ‘cause she smells like coyote?” Brian asks, bewildered, but apparently the girl is human, Horzon’s _adopted_ daughter. 

Mueller just wants money in general, and bragging rights. 

“What about you?” Horzon asks Letty. 

“I’m lookin’ for somethin’,” she says. 

“I want enough money to start over somewhere else,” Brian answers. “Now, anyone seen any good movies lately?” 

…

The truck comes to a stop so everyone gets back into their cars and waits for the ramp to lower. Gisele and some thugs are waiting; while Gisele gives them orders, the thugs load containers into the trunks. 

“Alright,” Gisele says as her GPS beeps. “Everybody sync up.” She gives them all a lingering look as she turns to walk away, and Brian glances at Letty, who nods. She noticed, too, then. Something about this entire operation is shrieking at Brian’s instincts but he has to see it through. 

They follow the GPS, Brian and Letty staying next to each other; Gisele speaks through the GPS and then a fifth car is there as Gisele orders, “Stay close to Fenix. He’ll lead you across.” They get into a single-line formation, Fenix then Letty then Brian, Mueller, and Horzon, to go into a tunnel. Gisele reports there’s a helicopter and that they’ve been tagged; Brian stays right on Letty’s bumper as Gisele orders them to go faster – and then they’re out, driving through a canyon. Brian sighs in relief. 

There’s SUVs waiting for them, and a jeep; Fenix spins to park beside one of the SUVs, whose headlights are all on, forming a small pool of light in the darkness. 

Cougars know the feel of an ambush. He snarls, low in his throat, and checks his phone but there’s no signal. He glances at Letty, parked beside him, teeth bared, as some of Campos’ wolves begin grabbing the cargo from the cars, carrying it over to the jeep. 

The drivers are ordered out of the cars, wolves with guns at each driver’s door. Brian silently slips out his car, watching Fenix strut around, yelling at the drivers to hurry it up. He catches Letty’s eye and jerks his head, so while Horzon and Mueller loudly react to being shoved, Letty hurries over.

“This the kind of alpha Braga is?” Brian demands, lunging into the small circle of light. Horzon and Mueller are starting to look nervous, so there’s some sense of self-preservation left. 

“You ain’t pack, cat,” Fenix growls, pointing the gun at Brian. 

Seven wolves, including Fenix, three coyotes. A cougar, a wolf, a coyote, and a bird. 

“How do we get to be pack, then, if y’all just kill the drivers?” Letty’s tense beside him, teeth bared, but Brian keeps his voice calm, his body loose. 

“You don’t get to be,” Fenix says, baring his teeth in an ugly grin. “Now, you wanna die a cat or a man?” 

“White boy,” Letty says suddenly, stepping forward, “a gray cat. Jesse. One of the drivers a few months ago. You put a bullet in him?” 

Fenix’s grin widens. “He tasted good. Cried. Even tried fightin’ with them little claws’a his.” 

Brian snarls, low in his throat, but Letty growls and lunges for Fenix, shifting and going for his throat. “Damnit, Letty!” Brian shouts, raising his gun and picking off as many of Fenix’s pack as he can before they start firing back. But then they’re ducking down behind cars, two on the ground whining, and Horzon’s whimpering and Mueller shifts into a [tiny little bird](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sparrow), and Letty and Fenix are tearing into each other – 

Brian shifts and pounces, landing on one of the cars. The wolf is still in his human-skin and Brian’s on him, claws digging into his gut, fangs tearing into his throat. One down. The next is a coyote, who shifts – but then a cougar lands on his back, cracking his spine, and Brian circles around, catching the next wolf mid-shot, latching his jaw around the human-skin’s throat and pulling him down. Two down from gunshots, three dead or dying, Letty tangling with Fenix, Horzon hiding beneath one of the cars in coyote-skin, Mueller who knows where. 

A wolf tries lunging at Brian out of the darkness; Brian springs straight up and lands on his back, claws digging in as the wolf tries to shake him off. Brian throws all of his weight to the right, knocking the wolf off balance, and then tears into his soft belly with his hind claws. 

There’s a gun in sight, so Brian leaves the wolf and lunges for it, shifting. One of Campos’ coyotes is left, trying to help Fenix with Letty; Brian shoots him in the back. The two remaining wolves try rushing Brian, both still in human-skin; Brian ducks below the first, shifting his fingernails into claws that catch the wolf’s belly, and then he comes up inside the second’s reach, catching his throat with claws still coated in the other’s blood. 

Only Fenix is left, and he’s got Letty on the ground, snapping at the back of her neck. Brian grabs another gun and shouts, “Hey, big bad wolf!” Fenix’s head jerks around as he growls. “Yeah, you coward, I’m talkin’ to you!” Brian shouts. “You faster than a bullet, perro?”

Letty is slowly working her way out from under Fenix; from what Brian can tell, she isn’t fatally wounded. Fenix lumbers off her entirely. He’s a big fucking wolf, possibly bigger than Dom. Brian has to pray he actually is faster, and also that Letty can work out what he’s doing. 

“That’s right,” Brian says, gun pointed at the ground. “You’re just a dog, Braga’s little pet.” Fenix snarls, digging his paws into the dirt. He doesn’t even spare an ear flick for Letty, who is slinking back into the darkness. “What, you gonna prove me wrong?” Brian goads. “Are you a big bad wolf, or just a dog on a chokechain?” 

Fenix bursts into motion, snarling, and Brian springs straight into the air, shouting, “Letty!” He twists so that he’ll land on Fenix’s back, throwing all his weight so they’ll tip over, and while Fenix tries getting back up, tries tearing Brian off, Letty’s there, jaw around Fenix’s throat, and she bites. 

Brian doesn’t let go until Fenix stops struggling, and then he falls back onto the dirt, gasping for air. 

Horzon is still under one of the cars. Two of Braga’s pack haven’t succumbed to their wounds yet, so Brian rolls to his feet and uses the gun to put them out of their misery. It’s not until he hears Letty say, “Fuck, Brian, you’re bleeding!” that Brian realizes he’s hurt. 

“Shit,” he mutters, bringing a hand to his side where he’s apparently been shot. Fucking wonderful. “Horzon, you can come out now,” he calls, glancing around. What a fucking mess. 

But – “We have Braga’s shipment,” he muses while Letty tears away one of the dead wolves’ shirt to press to Brian’s side. 

Mueller chooses that moment to flutter down from wherever he’s been hiding and shift back, gaping at the carnage. 

“What do we do, Brian?” Letty asks, gently tugging him towards one of the SUVs for better light to assess his wound. 

“We need to get rid of the cars,” he says. “When this gets discovered, they’ll lead right to us.” 

Letty nods, glancing at Horzon. “We’ll take care of it,” she says. “But what about the shipment?” 

Brian grins, pulling out his phone. “I know a guy with boltholes all over. I’ll stash it somewhere.” 

…

Carter directs him to an abandoned building, not too far into LA’s city limits, where Brian leaves the drugs. Letty texts him that her car has been stashed in Hector’s garage, and Brian’s has been left at Edwin’s. Mueller and Horzon are on the way home and they will not breathe a word of what happened. Brian thinks they should go to ground, but hopefully Horzon at least is smart enough to realize that. 

“Now, can we get you checked out?” Letty asks when she picks Brian up in a new car. “Look, Mia’s back at the den and everyone’s worried as hell.” 

“Yeah, let’s head there,” Brian says, sinking into the passenger seat. He is _so_ fucking tired. 

“Brian, don’t you dare fall asleep on me,” Letty hisses, following every single traffic law back to the Toretto den. 

“Wake me up when we’re there,” Brian mutters. 

…

There’s sunlight in his eyes when Brian wakes up in a bed, and a pack scattered around him. Rome’s curled up on one side, and an enormous gray wolf on the other, blinking unimpressed dark eyes at him. “Hey, Dom,” Brian mutters, pulling the pillow over his head. 

“I got the bullet out,” Mia says. “Cleaned and stitched the wound. You’ve got some scratches, but nothing deep enough to be dangerous.” She gently pats his ankle. “Also, your mate is possibly the scariest person I’ve ever talked to in my life.” 

“Oops,” Brian says into the pillow. “I forgot to mention I’d been hurt, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah,” Mia sighs. “You did.” 

“Food’s ready!” Leon calls from downstairs. 

Mia pats Brian’s ankle again as Letty and Vince stir. “Keep resting,” she says. “I’ll bring something up in a little while.” 

Dom slips off the bed and flicks at Brian’s head with his tail; thankfully, the pillow protects him. Dom harrumphs and then shifts, rumbles, “I sure hope you got a plan, you stupid cat,” and follows Mia out. Rome just noses his way under the pillow and looks at Brian with sad eyes. 

“Oh, shut up,” Brian tells him, determined to fall back asleep. 

…

Brian does have a plan. Absolutely no one is going to like it. 

…

He calls Carter, tells him to get Valentina, and then gathers the Toretto pack. With Rome looming at his side, Brian tells them his idea. 

“Not a fucking chance,” Carter, Rome, and Dom all snarl at the same time. 

Brian sighs. “It’ll work,” he says. “I just need to get face-to-face with Campos and then I’ll know. If I’m right, I can just gut the fucker then and there. If I’m wrong – well, that’s where the backup comes in.” 

“The backup plan is to call the FBI and tell them where you’ll be!” Vince says, glaring at him. 

“I’m wanted.” Brian shrugs. “It’ll work.” 

Vince just ups the glare. Brian looks at the phone, where he can hear Carter carefully controlling his breaths. “Look,” Brian says, “we have to act swiftly before they go to ground. We have the shipment; if I offer a meet, Heir to Alpha, he’ll have to agree or lose face in front of _everyone_. I know where at least some of Braga’s pack will be, and whether Campos is actually Braga or not, he’ll have to meet with me.” He glances at Dom. “Alpha Toretto,” he says, and then “Alpha Herrera. I’m not asking permission. This is the best course of action in the short timeframe we have.” 

Carter sighs. “Reyes is going to owe us fifteen favors for this.” 

“I shall inform him,” Valentina says. “Brian, do be careful. I would hate to have to make Los Angeles bleed.” 

Brian chuckles. “Of course you would.” 

With his pack’s agreement, Brian hangs up and turns his gaze to Dom. “I don’t want you anywhere near the Feds,” he says, “but I know I can’t stop you any more than you can stop me.” 

“Damn right,” Dom says.

…

It’s all pretty simple, in the end. Brian goes to the club the party had been in and he tells the bartender, “I need to talk to Campos.” 

The fox raises an eyebrow. “So?” he asks snottily.

Brian smiles, with teeth. “Tell him Heir Herrera is requesting an audience with Alpha Braga,” Brian says. “And tell him that Alpha Herrera is waiting to know the outcome of the audience.” He leans across the bar to purr, “Do _you_ want to be responsible for Alpha Braga’s embarrassment?” 

As the fox pales and scrambles for words, Brian jots a phone number onto a napkin. “Have Campos call me,” he says. “If I haven’t heard anything in two days, I’ll be calling Alpha Herrera.” Brian reaches out to pat the fox’s cheek then spins on his heel and strides away. 

…

Campos call within two hours. Brian chooses the meeting place, and Dom insists that along with Rome, he and Vince accompany Brian. Letty, Leon, and Mia will be within howling distance, get-away cars ready to go.

“Heir Herrera,” Campos calls as he steps out of the car. “That’s a bold claim to make.” 

Brian smells another cougar. “Is that Alpha Braga?” he asks, nodding towards the car. 

“It is,” Campos says. “As agreed. Now, who’s your posse?” 

“Alpha Toretto,” Brian says, tilting his head to the left, where Dom is doing an amazing job at intimidating the various wolves spreading out through the building. “My second, Roman Pearce of the Herrera pack,” with a nod to the right. “A member of the Toretto pack, Vincent Johnson.” 

“I am Alpha Braga,” the cougar announces with a snarl, as he stalks towards them. “Where is my property? And who will pay for the members of my pack slaughtered?” 

“Slaughtered, Alpha Braga?” Brian asks, stepping forward to meet him. “I was there – it was self-defense. And if you really want a war over it, well –” He laughs, low and mean. “Alpha Braga, what do you know of Alpha Herrera?” He smirks, wide and toothy. “Or about Alpha Reyes?” 

The cougar just blinks stupidly, looking from Brian to Dom to Rome and back. “Alpha Braga,” Brian says, flicking his gaze to the coyote lurking in the background. “You should train your decoy better.” 

“Good help is so hard to find,” the real Alpha Braga laments. “But I usually use him for humans, you know?” 

Eighteen of Braga’s pack, with guns, versus two wolves, a coyote, and a cougar. It’s shit odds. 

Oh, yeah, and that note should be reaching Agent Shithead right about now. 

“Alpha Braga,” Dom says. “I challenge you.” 

Braga scoffs, “For what reason?” Gisele’s sitting at the wheel of the car Braga’s closest to. 

“For Jesse Herbert, a member of my pack. He was driving for you.” 

Braga spreads his hands. “I have no memory of this Jesse.” 

“He was a good kid,” Dom continues, ignoring everyone in the room except for Braga. Vince has positioned himself to watch the wolves trying to flank them, and Rome’s got the other half covered. Brian’s planning how to avoid bullets while taking down everyone between him and Braga. “Brilliant. According to my mate, your boy Fenix killed him.” Dom takes another step forward. Braga’s wolves are looking nervous. “Fenix has been dealt with, but that order came from _you_ , Alpha Braga.” 

“So you’re declaring war?” Braga demands. 

Dom laughs. “No,” he says. “I’m challengin’ you. Here, in front of your pack.” 

Brian smirks. Good alphas lead through love, loyalty, and respect. Bad alphas lead through fear. 

Of course, that’s when Mia howls, “Incoming!” and agents in SWAT gear storm into the building. 

There is no way Brian is losing Braga after all this shit, so while Braga’s pack scatters, Brian sprints across the room, leaping at the last second to slam into Braga’s back. Gisele is hissing, but Brian just shoves Braga into the backseat and climbs in after him, while Dom slides across the hood and throws himself shotgun. “Go!” Dom shouts at Gisele, so she guns it and nearly mows down three of the agents on the way. 

Gisele avoids all the sirens with aplomb, and Brian sees that Vince has made it to Leon’s car and Rome’s with Letty, and all of the Toretto pack is tearing out of there in a mad scramble that gives him serious Miami flashbacks. 

“What are you doing?!” Gisele says as Dom points a gun at her. 

“Is Braga your alpha?” he asks calmly. 

Besides Brian, Braga reaches for the door and so Brian grabs him by the throat and lets his claws out. 

“He is my employer,” Gisele replies. “I have no need or desire for an alpha.” 

“So, you’ll drive us to where we want to go and not raise a fuss about us killin’ him?” Dom asks conversationally. 

Braga’s throat spasms. Brian’s smile widens. 

“Do I have another option?” Gisele asks. 

“Well, we can drop you off here and I’ll drive,” Dom offers. 

After a moment, Gisele nods. “I would prefer that.” She pulls over to the side of the road and doesn’t spare a glance for Braga, though she does pause to look at Dom. “If your packmate did drive for Braga, I am sorry for your loss.” 

Then she slips out of the car and Dom slides over, and while Braga is shouting, “You bitch!” Dom hits the gas. 

…

“Okay,” Brian says as Dom pulls up at the same spot they had that discussion – god, what, two days ago? “So, either the Feds just fucked everything up or saved our lives.” 

“You have no right to do this to me!” Braga is shouting as Brian drags him out of the car. “The kid might not even be dead!” 

“Can you tell me he’s not and be a hundred percent sure?” Dom is implacable, as unmovable as a mountain, staring down at Braga. 

“He’s alive!” Braga says. “I sold him but he’s alive!” 

“What’s his other half?” Brian asks. Braga’s definitely the kind of fucker who’d traffic in people. There’s no way he could remember them all.

“A, a fox!” Braga tries pleadingly. 

“No.” The way Dom’s staring at Braga is the way he stared at Brian after he heard Brian’s real name. “You can die a man or a coyote,” Dom says. “Your choice.” 

Braga tries to run and Dom chases him down, and Braga struggles, and he begs – and he finally shifts, where he dies in Dom’s teeth, and they leave him there for the carrion feeders. 

Brian drives them back to the Toretto den, where everyone has made it safely. “Braga’s dealt with,” Dom announces while Mia and Letty both hug him. Brian pulls out his phone to call Carter because Valentina will need to inform Reyes. 

They have leftovers that night, and it turns into a sort of wake for Jesse as everyone shares stories. Most of them tear up a little, and Rome says, “Sounds like a good kid.” 

“He was,” Leon says, rubbing roughly at his eyes. Dom moves around the table to pull Leon into his arms and everyone else finds somewhere to be. 

…

In later years, Brian will think back on the night after Braga’s death with guilt and shame. He should’ve known that the Feds would stake out the Toretto den. 

“FBI!” they shout, kicking in both the front and back doors, and Rome and Brian are on the couch while everyone else is in their rooms on the second floor (or in Vince’s case, the basement). “On the ground now! FBI! On the ground!” 

There are a dozen agents and more streaming in, and Brian can’t pinpoint who’s shifter and who’s not, and he hears glass breaking upstairs, so hopefully that means everyone’s getting away. 

He’s wearing his other half, and so’s Rome, and if they can get to the kitchen, they can go out the window. Of course, to do that, they have to avoid all the guns pointed at them. He flicks Rome with his tail, Rome who is baring his teeth and snarling, and then he moves, bouncing off the wall, knocking into three of the agents, and now they can’t shoot or they risk hitting their own, and throws himself at the window, and then again, while the agents begin to fire – 

But they make it out, him and Rome, and there are so many cops, and Rome’s hind leg is bleeding, so Brian grabs him by the nape and scales the next house, jumping from one roof to the next. 

He needs to lose their scent, so he backtracks a little, looking for a car out in the open. When he finds one, he gently sets Rome down, shifts, and breaks the window. “C’mon, Rome,” he says, opening the door. 

…

The only place they all know is Brian and Rome’s hotel room. Thankfully, one of Brian’s backup phones is there, so he texts Carter that his main phone is probably in custody of the Feds. Of course, he didn’t have any numbers in it labeled, but still. While Rome rests his leg, Brian packs up the room. 

After an hour of pacing and worrying, the Torettos slowly start trickling in. Mia’s openly sobbing, clinging to Letty, and Brian aches to comfort her, but that’s for Dom, for the pack. 

“We can’t go back, can we?” she asks. 

Dom looks at Brian. “I offer you sanctuary with the Herrera pack,” Brian says. “Carter’s arranging a plane at a private airstrip. Takeoff’s at noon.” 

Dom nods slowly, glancing around. “If all of you agree,” Dom says. 

“Yeah,” Letty murmurs. Leon nods. After a moment, Vince repeats, “Yeah.” 

“I’m almost done with school,” Mia says, laughing a little through the tears. “Almost Dr. Toretto.” 

“You can still do that,” Brian promises. 

“Okay,” Mia breathes. “Okay.” 

…

Brian calls Valentina, pretty sure she’ll be okay with it, and she is. She even has a few of the servants begin airing out the guest villa. Carter’s less thrilled but doesn’t raise a fuss. 

They lay low until dawn. The garage, of course, is off limits because surely the Feds have eyes on it, but there’s Letty’s car over at Hector’s and Brian’s borrowed car at Edwin’s. They still need at least two more, so Vince and Leon go ‘borrow’ three from the nearest racer’s garage. Brian makes sure all of them know the way to the airstrip. 

Dom and Mia go in the same car, and Leon and Vince, and then everyone else has their own. “Let’s stick together as long as possible,” Dom says. 

Brian asks, “Everyone remembers the way?” They all nod so he takes a deep breath. “Then let’s move out.” 

…

They almost make it. There must be dozens of cops chasing them, and Feds, and Rome has to ditch his car because one of the cops shoots his tires out. Thankfully, Vince is there to catch him and pull him into their car, and Dom and Letty are long gone, and then a bullet or two or three shatter Brian’s back windshield. 

“Rome!” Brian shouts through the shattered window, spinning his car around. “You tell Carter to keep his goddamned ass in Argentina!” 

“Brian, what are you doing!?” Rome shouts back but Brian drives towards the sirens and the guns because they need the time to get away. He doesn’t look back, not even when he hears Vince’s howl or Rome’s yelp – 

He takes out as many of the cars as he can but he can’t do a thing about the damned helicopters. When there’s nowhere left to go, he jerks the wheel, slamming into the side of one of the cars with his, trying with everything in him not to tense – 

He wakes up shackled hand and foot in the hospital, and does his best not to panic. Even when the doctor tells him he’s got three broken ribs and a serious concussion but he’s healing very well, there’s four wolves in the room with him, two FBI and two DEA. There’s gotta be a jurisdiction war going on, and if Carter does something stupid, or Dom, or Rome… but Dom will put the wellbeing of his pack ahead of trying to rescue Brian, and Rome’s self-preservation _had_ to have kicked in, and it’s too soon for any of Carter’s machinations. 

LAPD, Miami PD, FBI, DEA: they’re all fighting over him, and demanding to know where everyone else is. He doesn’t say a word. Wolves, bears, a few of those frightening reptile scents – he’s never left alone, and never left with humans, either. 

They make one mistake. He’s put on a bus with other prisoners, shackled hand, foot, and neck, ribs mostly healed, for transportation to a special facility for shifters. 

He’s put on a bus and driven out into the desert. 

Halfway into the trip, he hears familiar engines in the distance and even though he’s pissed they haven’t left, he smiles.


	10. Interlude 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carter, at the end of Chap3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: most of them aren't mine; title from Evanescence  
> Warnings: references to violence; takes place during and after the fourth movie  
> Pairings: Brian/Carter, Carter’s parents   
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 320  
> Point of view: third

“Carter,” Roman says through the phone and Carter _feels_ blood in his mouth, skin shredded beneath his claws. 

.

“Now, look,” Roman says, “me and Toretto here, we got a plan. Carter, don’t —”

.

“Corazon,” Mama says, “let them try before you make the world bleed.” 

“When Daddy died,” Carter begins, but Mama interrupts to say, “Your mate is _not_ dead.”

Carter doesn’t snarl at her, but it’s a near thing. “If their plan doesn’t work,” he bites out, claws digging into his thigh. 

“If their plan does not work,” Mama agrees. 

.

“Heir Herrera,” Toretto’s second says, “we’re goin’ tomorrow. They’re moving him.” 

.

Carter stands in his and Brian’s den, where no one else is allowed. Brian’s scent hasn’t faded yet – he’s only been gone for a few weeks. Nearly a month on this favor for Alpha Reyes, a week and a half to get to Braga, the rest in custody. And now, Brian is possibly only days away from returning. 

He shifts and curls up on their bed. 

.

“Carter,” Brian murmurs, and everything in Carter settles. 

“Brian,” he says. “Comin’ home?” 

“Yeah.” Brian sounds tired. “You got another plane that can pick us up? Fuck… I don’t even know where we are.” 

Carter laughs softly. “Put Roman or Toretto on the phone, babe. We’ll handle it.” 

“Okay,” Brian sighs. “See you soon. Love you.” 

“Love you, too,” Carter says. 

.

“Reyes owes us _so_ fuckin’ much,” Carter says and Mama doesn’t even fuss at him for the language. 

“He is aware,” Mama says. Carter’s not fooled, though; she’s been worried and angry, too. “Carter,” she says, reaching out so Carter goes to sit next to her on the couch. “Your mate is on the way home, Heir. We should rejoice.” 

Carter kisses her cheek and looks out the window, at his childhood home. “I am, Mama.” 

But next time, with Mama’s approval or not, if Brian has to go somewhere, Carter’s going too.


	11. Interlude 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentina, at the beginning of Chapter 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: some of the characters are mine; title from Evanescence  
> Warnings: AU, violence  
> Pairings: Brian O’Connor/Carter Verone, Carter’s parents, Carter’s grandparents   
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 960  
> Point of view: third   
> Prompt: any, any, _Let me light up the sky,/Light it up for you./Let me tell you why,/I would die for you._ (Light Up The Sky - Yellowcard)

There are those who doubt Valentina’s strength when they learn that Alpha Herrera is a female. 

She tears out their throats the way her father tore out those of all who challenged him. 

_An enemy is an enemy,_ she teaches her son. _A challenge is a challenge. Always respect a threat._

.

While Valentina loved Jonathan with everything in her, she would always regret that they could not run together as their other halves, that there were parts of him she would never understand, that he would always wonder at the jaguar inside her instead of having another half of his own. She loved him nonetheless, but by the old laws that still governed her kind even today, he could never be declared her mate. 

Instead, she took his name. Became his wife, mother of his son. She would forever be, despite the marriage, Alpha Herrera – as her family, her pack, has been for hundreds of years, stretching back unbroken. 

As her son will be. 

.

Valentina raised her cub (for cub he was, a black jaguar - _a good portent_ , the oldest member of the pack murmured while Carter explored on unsteady legs and Jonathan just watched in awe) with the understanding of true partnership, a combination of the human marriage and the shifter mating. He had dalliances here and there with other members of the pack, a few humans from outside it, and Valentina just shook her head, smiling. He was searching, as she had once searched, as her father had not. Papa chose a human woman to strengthen an alliance and Valentina has never thought otherwise. Her parents loved her but not each other, and she refused to settle. 

Had the pack needed it, of course; but the pack did not. The pack did not and she loved Jonathan. She killed for Jonathan. Would have died for him, before Carter. 

Valentina raised her cub to understand that the pack must always come first. But a mate – 

A mate is a sacred thing. An alpha cannot die for their mate because of the good of the pack. But vengeance should be sought. A reckoning. And if the alpha is strong, is respected and loved, then the pack will demand blood, as well.

.

Valentina was sure that Carter continued his dalliances in Miami but he never spoke of them to her. Not until he met a cougar named Brian O’Connor. 

She informed her closest council first, and word spread swiftly through the pack (though not to the human employees) that Heir Herrera had found a lover who might one day be his mate. 

Valentina was excited, of course; but she doubted that anyone could be good enough for her son, smart and strong enough to match him, to challenge him. But she learned how Brian taught Carter’s Miami pack, how he kept Carter safe, how he executed threats without hesitation or mercy. She could like what she heard, though, and still doubt. 

They spoke on the phone a few times, Alpha Herrera and her heir’s lover. Each time, she liked Brian more, and the doubts lessened. 

. 

She did not meet her son’s lover until Carter returned home for good, bringing most of his Miami pack with him – as well as a coyote who was firmly in Brian’s back and no one else’s. 

As far as she could see, there was but one problem: Brian O’Connor did not believe in mates, not the way Carter did. Oh, he loved her son, that was obvious to everyone. But he did not believe in mates, and he also (somehow) did not believe himself to be an alpha. 

.

Carter’s mate (for that is what Brian O’Connor _is_ , whether he will admit it or no) carved out a space for himself without seeming to realize it. It was an extension of the position he held in Miami and he earned it with cold glances, sharp claws, words that skewered, and smiles that cut into all who dared oppose him. Carter was her heir, not just because he was her only child – his operation in Miami, his conduct with the pack, how he did not back down even with the older members of the council while still showing them the necessary respect… Carter was her Heir Apparent, and none could challenge that. 

What they could do was challenge Brian. He was an outsider, after all, an upstart none of them knew. What they would never dare say to Valentina’s face, to Carter’s, they would spit at Brian. 

There had been no formal declaration of Brian’s place; Valentina had hoped he would realize on his own. But is not until a full year has passed since Carter’s return that Brian approached Valentina and with his throat bared, he said, “Alpha Herrera, I intend to court your son.” 

“You began that courtship months ago,” Valentina replied. 

Brian had blinked and looked down, clearly wanting to fidget and just as clearly refusing to. He met her gaze again as he said, “We’re going to mate.” 

“You have my approval, if you seek it,” Valentina said. “And my approval still if you do not.” 

.

Word travels swiftly in packs.

Heir Herrera mating traveled just as swiftly as the previous Heir’s choice of a human. 

Many were happy that the Heir was happy, or did not care either way. But there were some, a vocal minority, that could be content with Carter as Heir – but an outsider, not even from the same land… 

And so Valentina declared that challenges would be held on one of the ancient holy days, so that all those who believed Brian O’Connor should not lead could fight him. 

She made sure that every invitation called them the _Heirs Herrera_ , for they were both her sons now. 

And she did not doubt that they would win.


	12. Interlude 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suki, after chapter2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: some of the characters are mine; title from Evanescence  
> Warnings: AU, violence  
> Pairings: Suki/Tej Parker  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 675  
> Point of view: third   
> Prompt: any, any, any, The moon at midnight.

After the dust has settled and Suki has glared a few wolves into submission, the most she and Tej can be charged with is running from the cops. She knows that the two agents in charge, Markham and Bilkins, want to make it more, but Suki is the daughter of Elizabeth Somers, one of Atlanta’s greatest defense lawyers, and her mother is her only phone-call. 

Daddy comes down with Mom from Atlanta, helps her sooth the girls, and lets Suki prattle on about the different parts of the engine while Mom tears Customs and the FBI apart. 

It’s always struck Suki odd that Mom is just a human, no other half with claws waiting to spring out. But it’s Daddy that gave Suki her wings, and though he doesn’t understand why she needs more than just a mate, why she needs others to call her own and look after, he’s always made sure she has the room for it. That’s why she has her girls now, all eight of them, who love her and trust her and _need_ her in a way no one else does. 

But things eventually die down, and Mom and Daddy go back to Atlanta, and Suki goes back to racing. She knows that Tej is still waiting for Brian to get in touch, just like she knows he knows their phones are tapped despite the still gaping wounds Mom ripped in the Feds. And Brian – he cares for them, just like they care for him, her and Tej and Jimmy and the girls, who always giggled whenever he was nearby. He cares for them like he cared for whoever he left behind before he ever rolled into Miami, and she knows he won’t be calling any time soon. 

Tej is only human. He’ll never understand. Suki’s not sure what to call it – a flock or a colony, or just family, maybe. Brian called it a pack, but she knows Brian grew up around canines, so that makes sense. Pack is the easiest word to use because everyone knows it, since wolves are so much more common than any other kind. But Tej still calls his parents every Sunday without fail, and sends presents to his nieces and nephews, and there’s some complex system so that no one connects him to them. They’re his family and there is no line he wouldn’t cross for them. He could never walk away and cut them out. 

Suki aches at the thought of it. 

But Brian managed it, multiple times from the little she knows of him. For all that he said, he didn’t say much, but he was so bright, so likable, charming. Dangerous. She knows he’ll be clinging tightly, with teeth and claws, to the pack he made with Pearce and Verone, and even if he wants to, he won’t look back. 

But Tej works at his garage, once the Feds give it back, and he arranges races, and Suki makes sure that all the scrambling for power in the wake of Verone’s departure doesn’t come near her territory. 

“C’mon,” Eliza says, tugging Suki away from her car after another race that was barely a challenge. “How long’s it been since we swam?” Suki catches Tej’s eye to let him know she and the girls are leaving, and then they all get into three cars (with Suki driving one of them) and head out to the spot Suki had chosen and marked soon enough after she settled into Miami. Not all the girls are swimming birds, but the ones who aren’t (a [peahen](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peafowl), a [tortoiseshell queen](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tortoiseshell_cat), and a [zorro](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hoary_fox)) usually amused themselves somehow. 

The moon’s bright tonight, above this pool that’s all Suki’s, and [Lucy](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mute_swan) shifts so that she can poke Eliza with her bill, which is a mistake because while Eliza doesn’t _like_ being wet, there’s nothing else to stop her from chasing Lucy into the water. 

Which she does. Suki laughs, shifting so that she can stretch her wings, and just lets herself be.


	13. Interlude 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DSS Agent Hobbs stops by the Miami DEA office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I’m the lie living for you  
> Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Evanescence  
> Warnings: takes place after chapter 3, references to violence/death  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 1340  
> Point of view: third 
> 
> Note: SO. Chapter 4 is fighting me something fierce, possibly because the main story is only from Brian’s pov and so there’s a lot of shit he can’t narrate. Therefore, I’ve mostly decided to write quite a few interludes to set everything up. I may wait until they’re all done so I can post them chronologically or I may get frustrated with RL and post as they’re finished. We’ll see.

“Fuentes!” Monica looks up to see Markham frowning down the hallway. “C’mon, we have a meeting,” he says, so she locks her computer, slips her heels back on, and heads over. 

“Who are we meeting?” she asks. She’s always liked Markham; he’d had faith in her from the beginning, gave her chances few others would have, believed in her when she went under against Verone. She’s always been a gifted liar and to finally be able to use it – after everything went wrong, it would’ve been easy for Monica to be blamed for everything, but Markham made sure it didn’t happen. 

“Someone from the DSS,” Markham answers. “And Bilkins is back, too.” 

“So it’s about –” she hisses, regret and rage both shooting through her, and Markham nods. 

.

In the meeting room, there’s Bilkins sitting at the table and a huge man leaning against the wall. He’s something – Monica studies him, inhaling sharply. She knows the scent, has scented it somewhere else, but it was a long time ago and she doesn’t remember what it was. 

“Agent Markham, Agent Fuentes,” Bilkins says, “this is Agent Hobbs.” He smiles grimly. “Hobbs is going after O’Connor.” 

“I hope you put a bullet in the bastard,” Markham says. 

“That’s a last resort,” Hobbs replies, glancing at Monica. “I need to know everything you know about O’Connor and Verone.” 

“Alright,” she says, sitting across from Bilkins. 

.

She has relived that final day a thousand times. She relived it for the debrief with her superiors, with the FBI, in her nightmares. She’d woken up like it was normal, eaten breakfast with Carter, counting down in her mind. She’d found a few seconds to herself to text Markham about the airstrip Carter was sending the money to, so she knew everything would be over soon. 

And then Carter smiled at her, setting down his silverware, wiping at his mouth with a napkin, and then he purred, “Customs agents sure are getting pretty.” 

She’d frozen for just a moment before calling up a smile. “What?” she’d asked, sounding bewildered. 

“Monica,” he’d said gently, reaching out to caress her wrist before his fingernails became claws, which he trailed along her skin. “I’ve known from the beginning.” 

Every time she’s explained that moment, she’s never had the words to convey the sheer terror that swiftly became resignation. Sitting at the table in the garden, staring into his dark eyes, Monica had known she was dead. She considered shifting for a second, flying away, but his grip tightened. She’d be dead before she finished the shift. 

“Come along, Agent,” he’d said and escorted her to the Navigator. Her phone was left on the breakfast table. And even though there were eyes on them, she knew it wouldn’t save her. 

That’s possibly the hardest thing to explain, and it only convinced quite a few of her coworkers that she _had_ turned: Verone left her alive. In the Navigator, he’d wrapped his hand around her neck and she knew she was going to die – 

But she woke up to Miami PD and DEA agents shouting, alone in the Navigator but for the driver, and she had no explanation at all. 

Well. Not until O’Connor and Pearce disappeared with all the money and Carter Verone. Not until Markham and Bilkins told her the lies O’Connor and Pearce had told. 

.

After Monica, Bilkins, and Markham all tell their parts of the story, Hobbs just looks at them. “And none of you had _any_ idea that O’Connor was playing you?” 

“No,” Bilkins says. “And that’s on me.” He sighs, shaking his head. “He was a great cop, Hobbs. I thought if I gave him a little trust, he’d see – ”

“I never trusted him,” Markham interrupts. “But I just thought he and his buddy would run. Him working with Verone the whole time?” He throws his hands up in disgust. “We had eyes on Verone for over a year and there was never even a hint they knew each other.” 

Hobbs nods, rubbing at his chin. “So he’s a damned good liar. Able to pull together plans quick as lightnin’, too. Good at improv.” He looks at Bilkins. “The LAPD is sendin’ me every case O’Connor ever worked on. I’ll need the FBI’s notes, too, including whatever the fuck happened with Arturo Braga’s case.” 

“You got ‘em,” Bilkins says, so Hobbs turns to Markham with a raised eyebrow. 

“Anything to help catch that bastard,” Markham says. “Everything we have on Verone and that complete fuck-up of an op with O’Connor.” 

“Bilkins, we’ll talk more later,” Hobbs says. “You spent the most time with O’Connor.” He meets Monica’s eyes and tilts his head slightly. “Walk with me?” 

“Sure,” she says, pushing away from the table. 

.

“Bilkins and Markham seem like good men,” Hobbs says. “But they don’t understand, do they?” 

“Not even the rest of the shifters do, really,” Monica admits. “They never met him.” Monica chuckles, mostly without mirth. “He’s charming,” she says, shaking her head. “The best liar I’ve ever met.” 

“What about Pearce?” Hobbs asks. 

“Definitely in Brian’s pack,” Monica says after a moment’s thought. “Brian took the lead in every interaction I saw.” 

Monica has never needed or wanted an alpha; she understands that a pack is something like a family, but she _has_ a family. She’s known alphas, though, good and bad, and Brian – “If you do find them,” she says, “Pearce might your way in. There was something… almost fragile about him, I think. He was fresh out of prison when Brian brought him here and it showed in how Brian treated him.” 

Hobbs laughs. “That’ll be a good way to have a big cat going for my throat.” 

“Yeah,” Monica agrees. “Be sure to ask Markham how that feels.” 

Hobbs laughs again before asking seriously, “But how did Verone and O’Connor interact? See, the reports I’ve gotten from LA make it seem like O’Connor chose Toretto as his alpha but somethin’ about that doesn’t fit.” 

“No,” Monica says, shaking her head. “That doesn’t fit at all. And Verone – Brian, I’m sure he could fake if someone’s his alpha or not, but he never once deferred to Verone on anything but surface things, you know? And Pearce looked to _him_ , not Verone. Brian, from what I saw, he _is_ the alpha, he doesn’t follow anyone.” 

“Okay.” Hobbs assesses her for a moment and Monica raises a brow, meeting his gaze. “If Verone knew you were undercover the entire time, it implies the previous attempts were known, too. Now, from what I’ve read, Verone ain’t the kind to be merciful, so how do you explain that?” 

“I don’t know,” Monica answers simply. “Look, Agent Hobbs, I’ve gone over every word in every file we have on Verone. I’ve watched every video, listened to every tape. There is nothing to indicate he and Brian had ever met.” She shudders, remembering Verone’s claws around her throat. “I have no idea why I’m alive.” 

“Okay,” Hobbs says again, holding out one of his massive hands, which she shakes firmly. “Thank you for your time, Agent Fuentes. I’ll keep you posted.” 

“Thanks,” she replies. “And good luck.” _You’re gonna need it,_ she doesn’t say but he gives her a smile with just a hint of fang. 

.

After reliving that terrible day _again_ , Monica decides to leave work early and treat herself at her favorite spa before going for a flight.

It’s not that they don’t know where Brian O’Connor and Carter Verone are, because they do. It’s that they have no legal cause to have either of them extradited, and the one time Markham mentioned it to someone in Argentina’s government, they were completely ignored for two weeks. Approval hasn’t come down yet for anyone to be sent in undercover – and since Monica reported that Verone claimed to have known the entire time, she’s pretty sure everyone’s a little hesitant. 

But whatever happens, it’s out of her hands. She’s taking the afternoon to relax because she doesn’t want to dream tonight about Verone’s claws sinking into her throat.


	14. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What I have of chapter 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I am pretty certain I will never finish this 'verse; I can't believe how quickly I wrote what I did. 2015 was definitely the year I wrote the most in my entire life. 
> 
> I'm posting the itty bit of chapter 4 I have, as well as where things would've gone. Next up are what I had planned for the interludes, and finally my notes.

Title: I’m the lie living for you  
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Evanescence; some dialogue taken directly from the film  
Warnings: AU, violence  
Pairings: Brian O’Connor/Carter Verone, Dominic Toretto/Letty Ortiz  
Rating: PG  
Wordcount:   
Point of view: third 

After they get home, Brian sleeps for the better part of three days. Even after he’s up and about, fully recovered, everyone insists he take it easy for another week, which he uses to reacquaint himself with the villa. All of the staff and permanent residents welcome him back and Enrique decides to shadow him with a disapproving expression on his face.

“I get it, Enrique,” Brian finally says on the third day. “But I promise having a bodyguard would’ve changed exactly nothing of what went down.” 

“You cannot be sure,” Enrique intones and keeps following him. 

.

The Toretto pack settle into the guest villa and Dom immediately begins chaffing. Valentina assigns the Herrera’s pack assistant doctor, Sofia, in finding Mia a place at either a practice or a school. Letty explores the villa while Vince spars with every kind of shifter he can find and Leon flirts his way through the available women, human and shifters both. 

But even though his pack is content, Dom is not. He doesn’t mention it to anyone as far as Brian knows; he is charming to Valentina, alpha to alpha, kind to the servants, polite to other members of the pack, and he keeps himself busy with inspecting the pack vehicles, but he is not happy.

“This isn’t his territory,” Brian finally tells Carter, three weeks after coming home. “Not like it was mine when I got here. Not only is it _not_ his,” he continues, a mild feeling of horror rising up, “but it’ll be years before he can go back to what’s been his territory all his life, and when he does…”

Carter finishes, “Someone else may have claimed it.” Brian nods, leaning against Carter.

“How do we fix it?” Brian asks. “Dom will never allow anyone to be his alpha, so he can’t join us. And being allied is one thing when everyone has their own space, but as we are now…” He shakes his head. 

“I agree, babe,” Carter says, “which is why I think you should suggest the Toretto pack begin looking around.” 

 

Hobbs is sent after the Torettos and Brian – mainly Brian 

Toretto pack explore South America before settling into Buenos Aires and allying with Herrera pack; Vince and Rosa meet in Brazil and mate; Alpha Herrera calls in one of the favors owed by Alpha Reyes: keeping the DSS team away from the Toretto pack

 

Hobbs tries to catch Brian in Buenos Aires 

 

Would’ve ended about the same as canon


	15. interludes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interludes I've started + ideas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly not sure where my drive for this story went; possibly, I burnt myself out. But I had tons of plans that I just... never finished. I was gonna set it up so that Dom and his crew travel around South America, run into the rest of the canon crew as well as Hobbs and his team, and then somehow hear about Jesse being alive and in Europe. (That would all have been chapter 4 and the interludes.) Chapter 5 would've been hunting Shaw done and saving Jesse, possibly with Hobbs' and his team's help (because they would've survived, since Reyes was never the bad guy.)

Title: I’m the lie living for you  
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Evanescence  
Warnings:   
Pairings: Gisele/Han  
Rating: PG  
Wordcount:   
Point of view: third   
Prompt: Any, Any/Any, "Give me a moron with talented hands!" - Julie Brown, "I Like 'Em Big And Stupid"

http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/237859.html?thread=48757283#t48757283

 

Han started stealing things because he was so fucking _bored_. Mom and Dad kept trying to keep him out of trouble, and three of his older cousins were assigned to watch out for him, but it just… it was fucking _Ohio_ , man. Grandma and her pack had come over to escape trouble and settled into Ohio, of anywhere they could’ve picked, and maybe if Han was actually a [dhole](http://www.cuon.net/dholes/) like his cousins, if he’d felt like part of the pack, he wouldn’t have gotten so out of control. 

But Han wasn’t. They all tried to include him, he’ll realize when he’s older and wiser and watching Gisele bully a few of the younger members of the Herrera pack into training, and he’s considered a respected ally by one of the scariest packs in the Americas. They loved him. He should probably call them. 

Mom and Dad had his whole life planned out, all of the cousins at the same university, but he graduated high school and he split, four hundred dollars in his pocket and a phone he trashed three towns over. 

…

Title: I’m the lie living for you  
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Evanescence  
Warnings: takes place after chapter 3, references to violence/death  
Pairings: none  
Rating: PG  
Wordcount:   
Point of view: third   
Prompt: Author's choice; author's choice; "The most terrifying words in the English language are: I'm from the government and I'm here to help."

Hobbs – brown bear (alpha)  
Fernando Wilkes – black-crowned night heron (second)   
Bobby Chato – wolf (liaisons with locals)  
James Macroy – wolf (enforcer)   
Kevin Fusco – hyena (tech)

http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/215004.html?thread=45517276#t45517276

 

“Alright,” the boss says, dropping a stack of manila folders onto the table, “here’s our new job. Should be an interesting one.” 

As Fernando reaches for the top folder, Chato and Macroy stalk over from the corner where they’ve been discussing their latest run, and Fusco spins around in the computer chair.

“Brian O’Connor,” Hobbs says, “Carter Verone, and the Toretto pack.” 

“O’Connor,” Fernando says, pulling out the first documents. “The bus escape?” 

“Yup,” Hobbs says. “Originally, just an undercover who let his mark, Toretto, go and went on the run his damned self, but then he teamed up with a druglord in Miami, pissed off the FBI and the DEA, and disappeared down into Buenos Aires.” 

“So then how’d he get caught in LA?” Chato asks, holding out his hand for a folder which Macroy hands over. 

“That’s why it’s our concern now,” Hobbs explains. “Fusco, call up the electronic copies.” 

“You got it, boss,” Fusco says, spinning back around. 

Hobbs continues, “At some point, O’Connor and his second, Roman Pearce, snuck back into LA, teamed up with the Toretto pack for reasons the FBI has yet to share, killed a drug trafficker named Arturo Braga, and then O’Connor let himself be caught so his people could escape.” 

“And then they busted him off the bus,” Fernando finishes, “and they’re all in the wind.” 

“Yup,” Hobbs says. “O’Connor is our primary target, but we should catch whoever we can.” 

“Uh, boss?” Fusco says. “Buenos Aires – that’s Herrera pack territory.” 

“Yup,” Hobbs says again. “Carter Verone is the heir.” Fernando looks up in time to see Hobbs grin, bright and full of teeth. “So is O’Connor.” 

“Well, fuck,” Fernando mutters, flipping through the documents. “No wonder they haven’t made any headway.” The Herrera pack – the horror stories are legion about them. 

“C’mon, boys, let’s start our homework,” Hobbs says, pulling up a chair. “We’ll be heading south on Friday, and we’re gonna have all this intel memorized. Also,” Hobbs adds, making sure to meet Fernando’s gaze before looking at everyone else, “when we _do_ locate them, we don’t ever _ever_ let them get into cars.” 

“Understood, boss,” Fernando says while everyone else nods, and they get to work. 

.

Fernando’s [other half](http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Black-crowned_Night-Heron/id) is social but doesn’t need or want an alpha, not the way most canines do. His road to the DSS was a long and winding one – he’d actually been on the way out the door when Agent Hobbs asked him to join his team. Macroy, Fusco, and Chato were already there, and the four of them were a pack as clearly as Fernando had ever seen, but they made room for him. 

The day Fernando realized he was Hobbs’ second, he got blindingly drunk. “You know that was stupid, right?” Hobbs asked the next morning when he stopped by to make sure Fernando was still alive. 

“Yeah, boss,” Fernando had mumbled, trying not to breathe because it hurt his head. 

His whole life, Fernando had an extended family with his grandmother as the matriarch – but that’s different from an alpha, from a pack the way Macroy, Fusco, and Chato see it. Even Hobbs, despite not being a canine, he understands the structure in a way Fernando had to learn. 

“I was raised by wolves,” Hobbs explains once, when they’re waiting for an extraction and trading life stories.

Fusco laughs, that high-pitched cackle that will never not give Fernando a shudder. “Explains a lot, don’t it, boys?” 

“Yes, it does,” Macroy says. He and Chato were a pack before joining Hobbs’ team, possibly before joining the DSS; there’s a lot they will never talk about, and shadows in their eyes the rest don’t share. 

Fusco was wooed away from the FBI at some point while Fernando was still doing grunt work and he’s a genius with anything that needs electricity. 

 

Start with Toretto pack, which has been spotted in Brazil – meet Elena Neves

 

…

 

http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/233130.html?thread=48046250#t48046250

Any; Any; Do not want

Dom and Carter meeting

…

http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/215004.html?thread=45532124#t45532124

Author's choice, any, "Help?" "I don't think so. That's your own damn fault."

Rosa meeting Vince as the Toretto pack travels through South America 

…

 

http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/219983.html?thread=46275151#t46275151

Any, any, "I should start running now, shouldn't I?" (theme ‘last line’)

 

Han’s outside pov of the Herrera & Toretto packs 

 

…

Gisele learning about Jesse + Owen Shaw 

…

Gisele marveling at Han’s human grace 

http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/222706.html?thread=46600690#t46600690

Any, any, I've never seen someone fall down the steps so gracefully... I think I'm in love (Textsfromlastnight)

Gisele’s travels from LA down through South America; she and Han meet up before heading to Buenos Aires (Han’s traveling with Leo, Santos, and Cara)

Han&Gisele passing through when Gisele finds out about Owen Shaw having Jesse somehow, decides to tell Dom 

 

She has already been through Asia, hunted her way across Europe – so when she decides to quit Braga’s organization, Gisele travels south. 

…  
Inviting Suki’s pack to visit Buenos Aires; Mia getting together with one of Suki’s girls? 

http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/234510.html?thread=48363278#t48363278

Any, Any, Moonlit dance.


	16. notes

Brian O’Connor – cougar (born 1978; alpha)  
Anna O’Connor – human (born 1960)  
Will Reynolds – cougar (Brian’s father; born 1957) 

Roman Pearce – coyote (born 1978)   
Constance Pearce – jackal (born 1949; alpha)  
Darren Pearce – jackal   
Calvin – coyote  
Shondra – jackal 

Maria Toretto – wolf (born 1951; alpha)  
Ricardo Toretto – human (born 1950; died 1996)   
Dominic Toretto – wolf (born 1976; alpha)   
Mia Toretto – wolf (born 1980)  
Vince Johnson – wolf (born 1976)  
Letty Ortiz – wolf (born 1979)   
Leon Williams – human (born 1979)  
Jesse Herbert – cat (born 1982)

Dorian Bilkins – human (FBI)  
Tom Tanner – human (LAPD)  
Martin Whitworth – wolf (Miami PD)  
Jordan Markham – human (DEA)  
Jim Dunn – fox (DEA)  
Monica Fuentes – mockingbird (DEA)  
Agent Michael Stasiak – human (FBI)  
Agent David Penning – human (FBI)  
Agent Sophie Trinh – leopard cat (FBI)  
Agent Gabriela Ramirez – human (FBI)

Ethan Tran – wolf (alpha)  
Johnny Tran – wolf  
Lance Nguyen – wolf 

Edwin – jackal   
Hector – fox   
Orange Julius – human  
Slap Jack – human

Carter Verone – black jaguar (born 1968; alpha)  
Enrique Rosario – crocodile   
Roberto Sanchez – Cuban Boa   
Rosalinda – ocelot (Roberto’s mate)  
Valentina Herrera Verone - jaguar (alpha; born 1942)   
Joaquin Herrera – jaguar (alpha)   
Jonathan Verone – human   
Alejandro Herrera – jaguar  
Jesus Herrera – jaguar   
Miguel Herrera – jaguar   
Emma Rodriquez – wolf 

Hiro Ikeda – cormorant  
Elizabeth Somers-Ikeda - human  
Suki Ikeda– cormorant (alpha)  
Tej Parker – human  
Jimmy Lee – human   
Lucia – heron  
Heather – peahen  
Molly – tortoiseshell  
Eliza – hoary fox (zorro)  
Ursula – cormorant  
Lucy – mute swan  
Helen – duck   
Naomi – swan 

 

Fenix Calderon – wolf  
Arturo Braga/ Ramon Campos – coyote (alpha)  
Fake Braga – cougar   
Dwight Mueller – sparrow  
Tash Barilla– cormorant – Letty takes his place   
Malik Horzon – coyote   
Gisele Yashar – caracal   
Danny Johnson – coyote  
Damian Kraish – fox 

Hernan Reyes – bush dog   
Almir Zizi – wolf 

Luke Hobbs – brown bear (alpha)  
Fernando Wilkes – black-crowned night heron (second)  
Bobby Chato – wolf (liaison with locals)  
James Macroy – wolf (enforcer)  
Kevin Fusco – hyena (tech)  
Elena Neves – horned screamer

Rosa – Ocelot   
Nico – ocelot   
Tego Leo – human  
Rico Santos – human  
Han Lue – human (born 1975)  
Cara Mirtha – human 

Owen Shaw – human (same mother as Deckard)  
Deckard Shaw – Siberian tiger (same mother as Owen)  
Riley Hicks – lioness   
Anna Vegh - human  
Ivory - wolf  
Klaus – brown bear   
Jah – krait   
Denlinger – human   
Oakes – human   
Adolfson – human 

 

Shifting cannot be transferred through a bite; dominant gene always turns kids into shifters if one parent is a shifter. If both parents are shifters but not the same kind, the kid can be either. 

Not all shifters need/want a pack – most felines and avians are solitary by nature but choose to form a pack for protection; humans can become pack 

2001 – The Fast and the Furious   
2002 – Brian moves to Miami  
2003 – 2 Fast 2 Furious   
2004 – Carter begins settling into kingpin position in South America’s underworld; Braga begins moving organization into Central America  
2005 – Jesse goes undercover in Braga cartel for FBI (Stasiak as handler) and disappears; Brian&Rome go to LA to investigate Braga for Carter  
2006 – Torettos explore South America; Hobbs catches up

Braga gives Jesse to Owen Shaw for his computer skills; Owen’s not an alpha – he’s just a team leader who treats shifters the same way he treats humans. 

 

Okay, so the canon crew + Hobbs' team hunt down Owen Shaw and rescue Jesse. Owen is probably killed, which means Deckard Shaw would come after them. So they deal with him and then Brian&Carter + Rome would go home to their pack. The Torettos would probably go home to LA because Hobbs would swing that pardon for them. 

Maybe the reason I stopped writing is because I didn't actually know how it would end? 

I really love this 'shifter verse I created, though. Thank you to everyone who read/commented/bookmarked! I'm sorry I didn't finish, though I do think that ending it with Hobbs showing up is a good stopping place.


End file.
